


The President Requests

by Ytteb



Category: NCIS
Genre: Crime, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-21 07:19:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6042994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where is the latest assignment for DiNozzo and McGee? Er ... a Retirement Community. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Gibbs."

"Boss, DiNozzo here. All done here. McGee and I are about to leave for the airport. We should be back late evening."

"No, you won't" came Gibbs' reply.

"Boss?" asked DiNozzo.

"Got another job for you"

"What?"

"Escort duty,"

"What?"

"You know, DiNozzo, for someone who loves to talk you haven't got a whole lot to say," observed Gibbs.

"What? I mean, who are we escorting?"

"Cornelius Rush."

"And who's he? New addition to the most wanted board?"

"Nope. He's the grandfather of Lieutenant Nicholas Rush," answered Gibbs.

"And who's he?"

"The lieutenant just won the Medal of Honour."

"And?"

"And Cornelius Rush was invited to the White House to see the President present his grandson with the Medal."

"That's nice. Where do we fit in?"

"Seems the President got talking to Mr Rush."

"And?"

"You know, this'd go a whole lot faster if you'd let me finish, DiNozzo."

"Sorry. I mean, obviously, not sorry. Carry on. If you want to, of course."

"Mr Rush moved into a retirement community today, Cottonwood Vista in Orange County but his family can't be around to settle him in." Gibbs paused, almost waiting for Tony's next question but when none came he continued, "President thought it would a good thing for the Navy to help the grandfather of a navy hero. So he spoke to SecNav, who spoke to Vance, who spoke to me."

"And?" dared Tony.

"And I'm speaking to you."

"So you're asking McGee and me to take this guy to old folks' home?"

"Not really  _asking._  And I don't think they're called old folks' homes anymore."

"OK," said Tony, "so what do we need to do?"

"Go see him tomorrow. Help him settle in, make sure everything's OK."

"That sounds all right," said Tony, "we'll fly back tomorrow night."

"No," said Gibbs, "you're to stick around for a few days, see if he wants to go on some trips, get him acquainted with the area."

"What!" wailed Tony, "Boss, this doesn't really seem the sort of job for two highly trained federal agents."

"Two what?" asked Gibbs.

"Well, one highly trained federal agent," amended Tony, "but McGee's getting there."

"Vance was going to get someone from the LA team to do it but I told him you'd do it."

"Why?"

"You always say you like old people," said Gibbs.

"Yes, but …"

"It'll be fun," said Gibbs, "give you and McGee a bit of downtime."

"Boss!" tried Tony again.

"DiNozzo, Vance was asked by SecNav who was asked by the President. D'you want to phone the White House and tell them that you don't want to do what your President says?"

"No, Boss."

"Didn't think so," said Gibbs, "Vance is sending the details to McGee. Stay in touch," and with that the call was ended.

Tony sighed and went to find McGee. McGee was sitting in the rental car checking that he had everything for the journey back; movie and sports magazines for Tony, nutter butters and 'Binary Matters' for himself plus earplugs and eyeshades for when he needed to tune Tony out. Tim sighed with satisfaction at his successful planning and began to look forward to the trip home. He looked up as Tony got into the car.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Change of plan, McHoming," said Tony, "check your emails."

"Why?"

"Should be a message from Vance. We've got another job to do."

Tim tapped his cell and found the Director's message, "Cornelius Rush? We're checking out an old folks' home for him?"

"Yep, although the Boss says they're not called that anymore."

"OK," said McGee, "I'll phone the airline, see if we can move to another flight tomorrow night."

"Oh, no, no, no, Tim," said Tony, "you haven't heard the best bit. We're going to stick around for a while. Make sure Mr Rush settles in. Take him on some trips, show him a good time."

"What?" That's ridiculous. We're trained federal agents."

"Well spotted," said Tony, "I pointed this out to El Jefe."

"And what did he say?"

"He invited me to phone the President and tell him that not going back to DC straightaway was going to put a crimp in my plans so I'd rather just get on a plane and fly back, if it was all the same to him."

"The President?" asked McGee.

"The President asked SecNav, who asked Vance, who asked Gibbs who  _told_ us to play nanny, "said Tony.

"The President of the United States?" asked Tim. Tony turned to glare at him so he hurried on, "The President asked for  _us?_ " he said incredulously.

Tony laughed, "Not by name, I don't think we're on his radar that much, McHopeful. No, Mr Rush met with the President and told him about his move. President thought it would be nice for someone to look after him while he moves. That's us."

"But I've got plans for tomorrow," said McGee.

"Me too," said Tony, "and mine are with a living, breathing person with natural synapses rather than a virtual elf lord. But, hey, look up the White House number and see if you can swing it with the President. Be my guest."

"OK," said McGee, admitting defeat. "But I need to go shopping or find a Laundromat. I've run out of clean clothes; we were only meant to be gone two days."

"McBadenPowell," said Tony disapprovingly, "what's the Boy Scout motto?"

"Be prepared," said Tim a little sulkily.

"Well?" said Tony.

"All right," said Tim, "shoot me for not bringing six times as many clothes as I needed."

"We won't go that far," said Tony graciously, "besides, you make a good point. Well done, we'll go shopping. We'll find  _Cottonwool Vista_  in the morning."

" _Cottonwood_ ," corrected McGee.

"What?"

"It's Cottonwood, not Cotton wool," said McGee.

"Whatever," said Tony, "we're going shopping. And I'm going to help you pick out some chick magnet threads."

"Tony …" began McGee.

"You're entirely welcome," said Tony kindly.

NCISNCIS

As Tim and Tony drew up outside  _Cottonwood Vista_  Retirement Community the next day, Tim reflected that the shopping expedition with Tony had been unlike any previous shopping trip he had experienced before. He wasn't sure how Tony had known where to find the best shops or why he had become alarmingly Italian at every venue. He hadn't known that it was acceptable to  _haggle_  over prices. He certainly had never suspected that violet and khaki was a good colour combination and still less that it was a combination which would work on  _him_. In the bright sunshine of a Californian day, however, Tim was inclined to think that it did suit him although it was a look he would probably not sport in the office. He wondered if Tony would take him shopping again and he wasn't sure what answer he wanted to that question.

Retail therapy had cheered Tony up and he seemed to have laid aside any regrets about a rendezvous with natural synapses. Tim suspected that the happiness had been bolstered by remembering that he had once been on a Spring Break in Orange County and was already wondering if Mr Rush would like to pay a visit there.

"Let's go, Tim," said Tony as he led the way up to the reception for the sprawling Retirement Community. It seemed that the residents took a turn at staffing the reception desk for they saw an elderly woman with an alarming shock of peach coloured hair sitting at the enquiry desk with a winning smile on her face.

"Welcome to Cottonwood Vista," she announced, "my name is Emily. Are you here to enquire about vacancies in our community? I'm sure we could find something for you," she leaned forward to whisper confidentially, "Freddie Metcalfe didn't look at all well at breakfast this morning; I think he'll be checking out soon.  _If you know what I mean._ "

Tim opened his mouth to protest that they, or at least he, were far too young to be inspecting retirement homes on their own behalf but Tony spoke first,

"Well, that depends," he said, "we're both single … are all the ladies here as attractive as you?"

Emily giggled coquettishly, "My dear late husband was an artist and he said the Californian light made all the women look more beautiful."

"He was obviously a man of great discernment," said Tony in a velvety voice, "tell me, does the light work for men too?" And to Tim's horror, he leaned towards the light and, there was no other word for it,  _preened_  himself.

Emily was delighted and tapped him roguishly on the hand, "Oh," she trilled, "it certainly does." Then she seemed to catch sight of McGee's stricken look and she said in a much more down to earth voice, "well, it does in most cases."

"We're not here to look for a vacancy," said Tim, wanting to hurry things along, "we're here to see Mr Rush."

Emily dragged her eyes away from Tony who was still smiling beguilingly at her.

"Oh, you're the navy people from DC?"

"Yes, ma'am, we're federal agents," said Tim.

"Tell me," said Emily turning her attention back to Tony, "are you wearing a weapon?" and she gazed at his waist speculatively.

Tim gulped but Tony managed to say smoothly, "well, that would be telling. I favour a shoulder holster though."

"Oh," said Emily in a slightly disappointed tone but Tim noticed that her eyes didn't shift upwards.

"Do you know where we might find Mr Rush?" asked Tim a little desperately. He wasn't sure that a bright pink face was going well with the violet and khaki.

"I think he's in the lounge," said Emily briefly, nodding to her right "now, young man," she said to Tony, "where do you come from? You know, you have the look of my first beau. Now  _he_  was a real handsome boy. But a bit  _wild_ , my parents didn't approve of him at all."

Tim waited to see if Tony would go to the lounge but he seemed absorbed in his flirtation so Tim went alone in the direction indicated by Emily.

"So," said Tony, "my co-worker and I will need somewhere to stay for a few days while Mr Rush settles in. Have you got any suggestions?"

"Well," drawled Emily, "I've got a big studio apartment … only one bedroom but my couch is comfortable – if you thought you'd need it."

"You're very kind, Emily," said Tony apparently giving this serious consideration but there's McGee as well. We need more space."

"There's a guest cottage in the grounds," said Emily switching to practical mode, "I don't think there's anyone staying in it. We don't get many people staying. I'll check with Lucy, our administrator, if you like."

"Thanks, Emily, that'd be great."

In the distance they heard Tim's slightly over loud voice coming down the corridor,

"Come along, Mr Rush, you can show us your new apartment. Tell us if you need anything doing."

Tony turned and saw Tim ushering a tall, gaunt man before him. Cornelius Rush looked every one of his 78 years; his face was lined and wrinkled, he was slightly stooped and walked slowly but when he raised his face Tony saw that his eyes were bright and alert.

"Good morning, Mr Rush," said Tony going forward to greet him, "I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, but you can call me Tony."

"Humph," said the old man, "Italian, I suppose?"

"Yes," said Tony but chose not to elaborate, "do you want to show us your apartment, Sir?"

"Been waiting for  _you_ ," came the unpromising reply and he stalked to the door. A burst of noise greeted him as he stepped out into the sunshine. Tony twitched at the assault on his eardrums but Emily smiled proudly,

"The orchestra's been practising the 'Star Spangled Banner' ever since we heard that our new friend had met the President."

Tony nodded gamely. He could see Rush blinking in the sun and thought that perhaps he was a little moved by the tribute. Cornelius stood there until the anthem had finished and then he nodded curtly and moved on. Tony followed him and was greeted by the stirring sounds of 'Il Canto degli Italian', the Italian national anthem. Tony was impressed by the speed at which the players had found the tune and began to think this might be a fun place to live.

"Molte grazie," he said and bowed graciously. The orchestra beamed with pride. Tony saw McGee looking on in bemusement and went to talk to the conductor. A few moments later McGee heard the opening notes of the Star Wars theme. As Tony walked back to re-join Rush and McGee he heard a snort from Rush but couldn't be sure if it was laughter or a cough. He looked back and saw a group of elderly cheerleaders with pom-poms gathering in front of the orchestra,

"Ra, ra, ra! Go, go, go! Corney's come to live with us! Ra, ra, ra! Go, go, go! Cottonwood's the place to be! Hurrah!

Rush's lips twitched for a moment and then he muttered, "Hate being called Corney."

There was a final burst of cheering and waving and the elderly residents fell back. Tony thought he heard one of them saying, "If he'd come a day later, I'd have been ready to do my cartwheel. I need a lie down."

NCISNCIS

Cornelius Rush led the way to his new accommodation, a studio apartment which looked out on to a square of slightly weedy grass.

"Looked better in the brochure," Rush grunted as he opened the door and went in. The apartment was spacious and obviously well-designed although the paint was a little dingy.

"Coffee?" asked the host.

"That'd be great," said Tony.

"Unpack that box in the kitchen and you can make some," said Rush.

"OK," said Tony with a slightly forced smile but he went into the kitchen as directed.

"What can I help you with, Sir?" asked Tim.

"You any good with computers?" asked Rush.

"Er … I know a bit," said Tim.

"Nice one, McBabbage," came Tony's voice from the kitchen.

Rush and McGee looked up in surprise,

"Hey," said Tony, "I know about computers too." As he saw McGee's hard stare, he hurried on, "well, I saw this Discovery channel programme. It was about Charles Babbage. Apparently he did something important with early computers, something about being the first person to do something about something."

"Go on, Tony," said McGee, "what did he do?"

"Don't know," said Tony defensively, "the football came on so I switched channels. Anyway, Sir, Tim here is a computer genius."

"I thought your name was McGee," said Rush, "why does Agent DiNozzo call you McBabbage? You're not  _undercover_ , are you?"

"No, Sir, my name is McGee. It's Tony's idea of a joke."

"Oh," said Rush, "I see. Well, as you're an expert perhaps you could look at my internet connection. It seems to be running slow."

"Of course, I'd be glad to," said McGee, "where's your computer?"

Rush pointed to a desk in a corner of the room and Tim went to look at it.

"This is a pretty nice machine, Mr Rush, an X457 _ZQ,_ top of the range, only just out."

"I used to work in computers," said Rush.

Something like a sigh was heard from Tony's direction but it was quickly covered by the sound of pans being unpacked.

"What work was that, Sir?" asked McGee as he switched the computer on.

"I lectured in the Computing and Mathematical Science department at Caltech."

A louder sigh came from the kitchen and McGee looked up from the desk with a look of something approaching hero worship on his face.

"Coffee's up," said Tony, coming in with three steaming mugs, "just instant. Hope that's OK."

"Why would you apologise for serving instant coffee?" asked Rush.

"If you met our Boss, you'd know why," said Tony briefly.

Tim continued working on the computer while the others drank their coffee.

"It's a nice place," observed Tony.

"It's a  _sensible_  place," said Rush, "my old house was too big for me. My wife died last year and I've got no family nearby. My son's the nearest but he lives in Denver. He wanted me to move to live with him and his wife but I wanted to stay in California. This was the compromise," and he sighed.

"The people seem friendly," said Tony, "looks as if there's a lot going on."

"Yep, they seem to encourage the residents to help run the place," said Rush, "that lady on reception this morning. An elderly guy was cutting the grass when I got here yesterday."

"And that orchestra," said Tony, "that looked … interesting."

"Found the problem," said Tim.

"What is it?" asked Rush.

"You're using a low speed internet connection," said Tim.

"It's supposed to be high speed, state of the art," objected Rush, "it was in the brochure."

"Sorry, Sir," said Tim, "the cabling looks fine but the connection is just low speed. Let me see if there's anything I can do to boost it."

"I'm going to back to Reception. See if Emily has sorted out our accommodation," said Tony but the other two had their heads bent over the computer and barely noticed him going.

As Tony walked to the main building he noticed an elderly man sitting on a riding lawn mower on the front grass. He waved happily to Tony as he adjusted his cap. Tony found Emily still on duty at the reception desk.

"Hi, Honey," she said, "how you doing?"

"Fine," said Tony, "you still working?"

"Oh, I don't mind," said Emily, "I spoke to Lucy and she said it's fine for you and your friend to spend a few nights at the cottage. Sadie and Jake are going to look in and change the sheets for you and tidy up a bit."

"Are they the janitors?" asked Tony.

"Oh, no," said Emily, "they just like to help out. It's good to keep busy, you know."

"If you say so," said Tony, "I'm surprised the cottage is empty. I'd have thought you got lots of guests here."

"It gets busy sometimes," said Emily, "but most of us are on our own, haven't got any family so we don't get many visitors."

"I see," said Tony, "Have you been here long?"

"About five years," said Emily, "my husband and I moved in after he was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. There were more couples then but now it's mostly people on their own, like me."

"Your husband died?"

"Yes, about two years ago. I thought about moving but I've got happy memories here so I decided to stay on."

"I'm sorry," said Tony.

"Don't be, Sugar, we were married fifty two years. It's the way of things." She patted Tony's hand and then looked up, "Oh, there's Dorothy wandering again. She keeps looking for her engagement ring. We told her that it's gone off to be repaired but she won't believe us. I'll go and get her, she shouldn't be walking round like this. I'll see you later, why don't you come and have a cup of tea with me this afternoon?"

"I'd like that," said Tony, "but tell Sadie and Jack they don't have to fix up the cottage for us. We'll do it ourselves."

"It's no trouble," said Emily.

"No, that's fine," said Tony, finding himself uncomfortable at the idea of these elderly people waiting on him.

"If you say so," said Emily happily.

Tony watched her go over to Dorothy and walk her back to her apartment. He was about to go back to McGee and Rush when his cell rang.

"DiNozzo," he replied, "Hi, Boss."

"How's it going, DiNozzo?" asked Gibbs.

"McGee's found a computer superhero, we may not get him back," said Tony.

"And you? What have  _you_  found, DiNozzo?"

"Not sure, Boss. It's a nice place, nice people."

"But?"

"But something feels a bit hinky."

 


	2. Chapter 2

'Hinky? How?" asked Gibbs.

"Not sure, Boss. Like I said, nice place, nice people and everyone I've met seems happy. Perhaps I'm just imagining things."

"Could be," said Gibbs, "so what feels hinky? Hang on, I'm in Abby's lab. Duck's here too. I'll put you on speaker."

"Hi, guys," said Tony.

"Tonee … how are you? How's Timmy?" asked Abby. Tony could feel the hug reaching out to him.

"We're fine, Abs. Missing you and Bert, of course."

"Anthony," said Ducky, "I gather from listening to Jethro that something is amiss?"

"Hi, Ducky. Like I was telling the Boss, it's a nice place and people seem happy but …"

"But?" asked Ducky.

"It's a bit run down, going to seed. And the residents seem to be doing a lot of the work. Doesn't feel right."

"To see older people still working?" queried Ducky in a slightly cool voice, "older people are still capable of gainful employment, you know."

"Of course, Ducky," said Tony hastily, "I know that. It's just …"

"Tony," interrupted Abby, "Cottonwood Vista was set up by James Stanhope."

"And?"

"And," said Ducky, "he was one of the pioneers of retirement communities where the residents are actively encouraged to contribute to the life of the community. He posited that this maintained both mental and physical wellbeing by fostering activity and a sense of involvement. It has been remarkably effective in many cases."

"So I shouldn't be worried then?" asked Tony in relief.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," said Ducky, "but the residents doing a degree of work in a Stanhope community is not, in itself, a cause for concern."

"Happy?" asked Gibbs.

"I suppose so," said Tony.

"You don't sound too sure," suggested Gibbs.

"Well, I get the seniors doing some work but the place still looks a bit frayed at the edges."

"You've got a few more days down there," said Gibbs, "keep an eye out but it sounds as if everything's OK."

"On it, Boss," said Tony.

"Give my love to Timmy," cooed Abby.

"Will do, ciao," said Tony. As he ended the call he heard a Bert fart.

"Abby," said Gibbs, "do a bit of digging into Cottonwood Vista. Make sure it's all above board."

"Your gut telling you something's wrong, Jethro?" asked Ducky.

"Nope. But something's nagging DiNozzo's, so I'll go with that for now."

NCISNCIS

Tony went back to Cornelius Rush's apartment where he found that Tim had done what he could to boost the internet connection.

"It's better than it was," said McGee, "but I think you'll need to report it as a fault. It's definitely not a high speed connection."

"I'll do that," said Rush, "thanks, Tim."

Tony raised an eyebrow to hear Rush calling McGee by his first name; he had obviously warmed up to him.

"Is there anything else we can do for you, Sir?" asked Tony, "need any help unpacking?"

"No, you've done the kitchen. Everything else is done," said Rush.

"We going to stick around for a while," said Tim, "our bosses suggested you might want to go on a couple of trips; get acquainted with the area. We'd be happy to take you."

"That's kind of them," said Rush.

"Holders of the Medal of Honour are special," said Tony, "so their relatives are as well."

"I already know the state from working at Caltech," said Rush. A reverent sigh came from McGee. "But I guess I don't know Orange County too well, apart from taking my son to Disneyland of course."

"Is there anywhere you'd like to go?" asked Tony.

"There's the Discovery Science Centre," said Tim, "or a Flight deck Flight Simulation Centre, they sound fun."

Tony suppressed a sigh and resigned himself to days of geekery but he had reckoned without Rush.

"They do sound interesting," he said diplomatically, "but I've always hankered after going to the Marconi Museum."

"Oh, what's there?" asked Tim, "ooh, is it a museum about the history of radio?"

Tony suppressed another sigh.

"No," said Rush, "it's a car collection."

Tony brightened and his smile grew broader as Rush continued, "I hear it's got Ferraris, Jaguars, muscle cars. I'm interested in cars, you see."

"We like cars too," said Tony, "Don’t we, Timmy?"

Tim nodded; he did like cars but he was still mourning losing the opportunity to go to the Science Centre.

"Tim's got a Porsche," said Tony, trying to prove Tim's credentials as a car enthusiast.

"And Tony's had  _lots_  of cars," said Tim, "haven't you, Tony?"

"I have been unfortunate," said Tony loftily, "but I have had some classic cars in my time."

"And what's happened to them?" pressed Tim.

"They have met with some unlucky accidents," admitted Tony, "None of them my fault,"

"Well," said Rush, "it sounds as if we'd all enjoy a trip there. There is another place I'd like to go as well. If it's not too far."

"Where's that?" asked Tony a little suspiciously.

"It's a bit embarrassing," said Rush.

Tony felt hope stirring in him, surely Mr Rush wouldn't be embarrassed if he was about to request a visit to a science museum? Then his stomach lurched; he wasn't sure the President would approve of two federal agents taking a septuagenarian to a strip joint.

Rush coughed, "I've always wanted to go to Venice Beach."

Tony considered hugging Rush but refrained; despite what his co-workers thought, he did have some sense of what was conduct becoming for a federal agent.

"Venice Beach?" he said nonchalantly, "why's that?"

"My students used to go on Spring Break there. They'd come back raving about what a good time they had. I'd like to see what it's like."

"It's not Spring," pointed out McGee helpfully.

"I know that," said Rush with a hint of frostiness, "I don't want to  _go on_  Spring Break. I just want to see the places they talked about."

"We'd be happy to take you, Sir," said Tony calmly, "so cars tomorrow and Venice Beach the next day?"

"Sounds good to me," said Rush, "now it's lunch time. I wonder if it's the same guy cooking today as yesterday. He made the best chicken pot roast I'd had in years."

Disappointingly, the food wasn't as good as Rush had hoped. It turned out that Giovanni's arthritic hip was playing up so he was resting in his apartment. In Tony's view, his homemade pizzas taken out of the freezer were a good substitute.

After lunch Mr Rush went to the Reception desk to complain about the internet in his apartment.

"I'm just about to go off duty," said Emily, "but I'll be sure to raise it with Lucy tomorrow. Is that all right?"

"Guess it'll have to be," said Cornelius gruffly.

His ill temper seemed to slide off Emily and she beamed at him as if he'd paid her the highest compliment. She watched him go and then turned to Tony,

"So, Sweetheart, are you going to come and have tea with me this afternoon?"

"Sure," said Tony, "where's your apartment?"

She gave him directions and said, "About 3pm? I need a rest first."

It seemed that lunch time to mid-afternoon was the time when the residents took their siestas so Tony took the opportunity to catch up with Tim.

"What do you make of this place?" he asked.

"Seems nice. Everyone seems happy …"

"But?"

"How did you know there was a but?" asked Tim.

"I've known you long enough to know when a but is coming, McGee."

"OK. Well, the internet thing is odd. Mr Rush showed me the brochure and it definitely says there will be a high speed connection but I did …"

"A bit of hacking? Oh, McTwitchyFingers, you can't resist, can you?"

Tim chose not to answer this directly, "I looked at the account details," he said.

"Without mchacking?"

"No," admitted McGee.

"And what did you find?"

"They used to have a high speed connection but Cottonwood switched suppliers a few months ago and went for a reduced package."

"Hinky," mused Tony.

"Not necessarily," defended Tim, "they might have thought most of the residents didn't need a deluxe connection so might as well go for something cheaper."

"And they didn't get round to changing the brochure?"

"It's not impossible," said Tim, "I doubt if many people here would notice the difference. Not many of them will be into on-line games."

"Is Cornelius into games?" asked Tony.

"He's a level 10 sorcerer," said Tim respectfully.

"I'm going to have tea with Miss Emily," said Tony, "why don't you take a walk round. See what you think of the place."

"What am I looking for?" asked Tim.

"Don't know. Oh, the cottage is free for us tonight. You might need to tidy it up and make the beds."

"Why me?" asked Tim.

"You don't want the old people to do it for you, do you, McHeartless?"

"You admitting you're old, are you, Tony?" said Tim but his riposte was wasted as Tony was already walking away.

Tony made his way to Emily's apartment and tapped on the door. After a few moments he heard her call,

"Come in, come in, the door's open."

Tony let himself in, wondering whether to admonish her for lack of security but also wondering what else she had in common with Gibbs. He found her sitting in her living room and, for a moment or two, as he looked at the wood carvings adorning her shelves, he wondered if she did have things in common with his Boss. She saw him looking and said,

"My husband's work. I can't bear to get rid of them."

Tony nodded, remembering that she had said her husband was an artist. "They're very good," he said and then, seeing her struggle to get up, "can I help you?"

"Could you just pass me my cane, please?"

The cane was propped up by the door. Tony handed it to her and noticed that it had a fine carving of an elephant's head as the handle, "did your husband make this as well?"

"Yes. David used to say I had a memory like an elephant so he made this for me. He finished it just before he was diagnosed with the Parkinsons."

"I didn't realise you needed a cane," said Tony as he watched her limp towards the kitchen.

"I've got arthritis," she explained, "I need to take another painkiller, the morning one has worn off now."

"I can make the tea," said Tony, not liking to see her struggle.

She looked at him sceptically, "you know how to make tea?" and she laughed, "Teabags in a mug aren't tea, you know."

"Oh, believe me, I know," he said, "one of my co-workers is British. I've seen him make tea 'the proper way' lots of times. I know what to do."

"Knock yourself out," said Emily going back to her chair in relief, "you'll find some cookies in the jar by the kettle."

"Do you want me to fetch your tablets?" offered Tony.

"Your mom brought up a helpful boy," said Emily, "they're in the bathroom. The bottle with the blue top."

Tony did as he was directed and soon they were both sitting down to tea made á la Ducky.

"This seems like a nice place," said Tony.

"Oh, it is," confirmed Emily, "we're all very happy here. Well, except for Freddie Metcalfe and I think he's constitutionally incapable of being happy anywhere."

"He's the one you said would be 'checking out' soon?" remembered Tony.

"That's right. He's a bit of a grump but his heart's in the right place."

"The residents … er … they seem to do a lot of work around the place," said Tony.

"It's what makes the place tick," said Emily.

"You did a long stretch today," pointed out Tony.

"I get paid for it," said Emily unexpectedly.

"You do?"

"Of course. Well, I actually get a reduction in rent, which is the same thing. But it means I can afford to stay on here."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes, my pension's not as much as used to be, and prices have gone up so."

"What happened to your pension?" asked Tony.

"What always happens to pensions," said Emily, "they always seem to get less as you get older."

"So, does Lucy the administrator spend much time here?"

"Oh yes, she's always in and out. Such a dear girl. She's the great niece of Jim, you know."

"Jim?"

"Yes, Jim Stanhope. He founded the place and ran it for years."

"But not now?"

"No, he's nearly 90 so he decided to stand down a couple years ago. He put Lucy in to run it and she's doing real well. She's so compassionate and caring, takes after Jim."

"Sounds good," said Tony. He helped himself to another cookie and then noticed that Emily was frowning, "is something wrong?" he asked.

"The pain's bad today," she admitted, "I have good days and bad days. I think today is a bad one."

"I'll go," said Tony, "I'll just wash up these things for you."

He thought it was a measure of his hostess's pain that she didn't protest.

"Will I see you tonight?" she asked as he was about to leave.

"What's on tonight?"

"Bingo, and then we have a bit of a singsong after. You could bring your friend and Cornelius."

"I'll try," promised Tony, wondering if he'd be able to tear the two computer gamers away from their virtual games.

NCISNCIS

Tony went to the guest cottage where he found Tim reading the community newsletter.

"Hey," greeted Tony.

"Hey," returned Tim.

"You tidied up, well done, McHomemaker."

"Nope, didn't need to, it was all about done when I got here," said Tim. "How d'you get on?"

"Emily said they all like helping out. Says they get money off their rent for doing it."

"Hmmm, Sadie and Jake said the same thing. They were finishing off when I got here."

"Must be expensive to live here," commented Tony.

"They said they could afford it when they came and they expect it to be easier in a few years' time," said Tim.

"How so?"

"Seems they invested a big chunk of their money a couple years ago."

"So why are they hard up?"

"The adviser told them that if they put the cash into a fund which they can't touch for 10 years they'd make a killing. They thought that sounded good, thought they'd make do for a while so they had more money for later."

"And how old are they?"

"Jake's 79 and Sadie's a year younger," said Tim.

"And they were advised to invest for 10 years?" frowned Tony.

"Yep. Sounds a bit odd, doesn't it?" said Tim.

"I'd say," said Tony, "where did they find this adviser?"

"Recommended by Cottonwood Vista," said Tim, "one of the services they offer. I was looking at their newsletter, the adviser visits once a month."

"I think we'd better get Abby looking into this adviser," said Tony. "Oh, we've got an appointment this evening."

"Doing what?"

"Bingo!" said Tony gleefully, "we can meet everyone."

Tim emailed Abby with the details of the 'adviser' and then they went to the Bingo evening. They were surprised to find Cornelius there but he explained that, as he couldn't get in touch with his virtual friends (and enemies) because of the slow internet speed, he had decided to make some real ones instead. Tony hoped he meant friends rather than enemies.

Emily seemed to be a lot brighter that evening but was worried because Giovanni was still unwell.

"He usually calls out the numbers," she explained. She began to look beguilingly at Tony but he had other ideas.

"McGee loves numbers," he said, "He'll love to do it. He'll probably be able to give you the odds on each number coming up."

His hope to make Tim squirm backfired, however. It turned out that McGee often hosted Bingo evenings with his Webelos so he was the master of all things related to Bingo. He had the rhythm and the patter and soon had his audience eating out of his hand. After an hour, when all the prizes had been won, Emily rose to give him a vote of thanks. As the applause died down, Emily said to Tim,

"We have our singsong now," she looked wistfully at the piano, "such a shame that Stuart passed, he used to play the piano for us. Of course, I'm not just sad that he died just because of the piano playing. He was a lovely man, used to do the painting as well. We miss him," and she sighed.

McGee spotted an opportunity for payback and he said in a loud voice, "Tony plays piano. I'm sure he'll play for you."

Tim knew that Tony had a piano in his apartment but wasn't sure that he could play it or not; it was one of those odd things that he never spoke about. Tony glared at Tim but, seeing a dozen pairs of eyes fixed hopefully on him, gave in gracefully and went to the piano. He noticed that it was a very fine instrument and that it was in tune; he wondered which one of the residents did the tuning. He found a heap of sheet music and began to play and to lead the singing.

McGee was impressed by the performance and the way Tony had everyone singing along. Refreshments were brought out but Tony carried on playing as people ate. When he saw that people had finished eating and drinking he switched to some gentle dance music and a few people got up to dance. To his surprise Tim saw Cornelius ask Emily to partner him. The chords of "As Time Goes By" from Casablanca swept through the room as they shuffled and swayed together. Tim was entranced by the beauty of the music and the emotions it was evoking and he found his vision blurring. He wiped his eyes surreptitiously and noticed that not everyone was enjoying the performance. Freddie Metcalfe was looking furiously at Cornelius and Emily; he spotted McGee looking at him and walked out slamming the door behind him. It seemed that Tony had also noticed as he played louder and drowned out the sound of the door banging.

NCISNCIS

There was no word from Abby about dubious financial advisers the next morning so the expedition to the Marconi museum went ahead. Cornelius had another surprise in store. Tim and Tony led the way to their hire car but Rush said,

"Uh, boys, would you mind if we went in my car?"

"You have a car here, Mr Rush?" asked Tim.

"Foolish, I know, because I can't drive it now. I know I should sell it but I can't quite bring myself to do it. It was the first new car I ever owned. The community said they'd garage it for me till I decided what to do with it."

"Sure," said Tony agreeably, "show us where it is."

Cornelius showed them the way to the community garage. Tony and Tim gave a collective gasp when they saw Rush's 'first new car'; a 1965 Ford Thunderbird Convertible.

"It wasn't really practical with a new-born," said Rush, "but we couldn't resist it."

"Rock, paper, scissors for who drives first," said Tony. A few minutes later he was sitting disconsolately in the rear as Tim drove away.

They had been driving for about 30 minutes, listening to Cornelius telling the history of the car when Tony heard something in the distance. He looked behind him and said

"McGee, have you broken the habit of a lifetime and gone over the speed limit?"

McGee reflexively looked at the speedometer, "No, Tony, I'm going 3 miles below the speed limit."

"Of course you are, McNotRacer," said Tony, "well, something's up; we've got company," and he jerked his head to indicate a patrol car coming up behind them with lights flashing. "Pull over, McGee, they look as if they mean business."

Tim pulled over and they waited as they saw two armed officers approach them.

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Just keep calm and stay still," said Tony laying his hand on Rush's shoulder, "everything will be fine but we don't want to spook anyone. They're probably just admiring your car and want a closer look."

They saw the two deputies approach the T-bird in text book fashion. One of them said,

"Get out of the car, please. Keep your hands where we can see them."

Tim and Tony got out of the car slowly, trying to look as unthreatening as possible.

"What's going on, Deputies?" asked Tim.

"You, Sir," said the taller of the two deputies, "get out of the car too!"

"I'm trying to," said Rush, "it takes me a while to get up."

Tony threw a questioning look at the deputies and indicated that he could help the older man to get out. Receiving a nod of permission he slowly held out a hand to help Rush up and finally the three stood to face the deputies.

"Now face the car," came the order, "and put your hands on the roof."

"This is outrageous," said Cornelius, "what do you think I've been doing? Gun running?"

"Sir," said Tim, "this is not a good time to get angry."

"What seems to the problem?" asked Tony as he was searched. "That's my weapon," he pointed out as his Sig was found, "and if you look in my jacket pocket you'll find my badge."

As Tim's weapon and badge were also found, the tension reduced a little,

"They look real," said Deputy Freeman handing the badges to his colleague.

"Keep an eye on them," said Deputy Greenford, "I'll call it into headquarters. They can check with this NCIS to see if they are genuine. The caller said they were tricky. We won't take any chances."

"What caller?" asked Tim, "why don't you tell us what's going on, perhaps we can clear it up?"

"You just stay where you are!"

"Come on," said Tony firmly, "we've done what you wanted. You can see our badges. Tell us why you stopped us. At least let Mr Rush sit back in the car."

Deputy Freeman gave a reluctant nod and Cornelius sat back down a little shakily.

"You mentioned a caller?" said Tim.

"Dispatch got a call to say that a resident of Cottonwood Vista had been taken away by two armed men," said Deputy Greenford returning from making the call. "It's all right, Denis, the badges are genuine. Give them back their weapons."

Freeman gave the weapons back and Greenford returned the badges.

Tony and Tim could see Cornelius was about to give everyone a piece of his mind as he recovered from his shock so Tony spoke first,

"Well, technically it was right. We are two armed men and we did take Mr Rush away from Cottonwood Vista."

"But he wanted to go," added Tim, "we're going on a trip to the Marconi Museum."

"Did you think they'd kidnap me in a bright pink Ford T-bird?" asked Cornelius in a tone of voice which his former students had probably dreaded hearing.

"Sir, in our line of work you learn never to be surprised by the stupid things that criminals do," said Greenford.

"And I'm sure that if we had kidnapped Mr Rush he'd have been very grateful for you following up on that call," said Tim pacifically.

A grunt from Cornelius' direction could have meant anything.

"Do you know who made the call?" asked Tony.

"No, Special Agent DiNozzo. It was anonymous, Dispatch said it sounded like an older person and the call came from Cottonwood Vista."

"Male or female?" asked Tim.

"Male," said Freeman, "look, you're free to go now. If you carry on down this road about a mile and then take a left it will take you a more scenic route to the museum."

"Thank you," said Tony, putting a firm hand on Rush's shoulder to prevent him expressing another opinion, "appreciate it."

"Enjoy your visit," said Greenford, "it's an interesting place."

The two deputies got back in their patrol car and drove off.

"Are you all right, Sir?" asked Tony as they watched the patrol car drive off.

"Of course I'm not," said Cornelius with a touch of acerbity, "I've just been held at gunpoint by two mad deputies." He paused, caught sight of Tony's raised eyebrow, and said more calmly, "I'm a bit shaken. Don't forget, you two are used to seeing guns being waved around. I'm not. It was a bit … alarming."

"They didn't actually wave their guns around," Tim pointed out, "they behaved very professionally. In fact I might get in contact with the Sheriff and tell him so." Cornelius glared at Tim who then added, "Or not. I'm sure he doesn't need me to tell him what a good job his deputies do."

Cornelius took a moment to reflect that the life of a NCIS Special Agent was very different to that of a retired university lecturer. He shivered as he relived the last few minutes.

"So, who do you think made that call?" asked Tim.

"Don't know, it probably wouldn't be hard to find out. There don't seem to be that many people living at Cottonwood." said Tony.

"I bet it was that old fusspot Metcalfe," said Rush after a few moments' thought.

"Why?" asked Tim.

"Because Mr Rush danced with Emily last night," said Tony.

"Of course," said Tim remembering his look of fury, "but why would he do it?"

"To ruin our day," said Rush, "I didn't like the look of him from the moment I saw him. Can we prove it was him?"

"We could probably trace the call," said Tim.

"Good. Do it! We'll get him shut up in jail. Serve him right!"

"What would we charge him with?" asked Tony, "he could argue that he told the truth. He'd say he was confused. Anyway, getting your new neighbour arrested less than a week after you got here might not be the best way to start life at Cottonwood."

"Humph," said Cornelius as he considered this point of view. "Have it your way. But don't tell him what happened. Don't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing he knocked five years off my life. And at my age, I can't really afford that." With this he shut the car door and then leaned out of the window and said, "Come on. We haven't got all day. I want to get to this place before the fire service get called out to us."

Cornelius' gloomy forecast was not fulfilled and the three enjoyed a fascinating few hours looking at the car collection. They returned to Cottonwood in the late afternoon. Tim thought he saw Freddie Metcalfe loitering near the entrance but he disappeared quickly and Tim decided not to mention it. Cornelius declared himself in need of a restoring sleep so went off to his apartment leaving the other two to garage the car.

Walking back to the main building, Tim and Tony saw Emily talking to a young woman. Emily gestured to them to come and join her.

"This is Lucy Stanhope," she said as they drew near. "Lucy, this is Tony DiNozzo and Timothy McGee; they're here to help settle Cornelius in."

"How kind of you," said Lucy, "and welcome to Cottonwood Vista."

Tony looked at Lucy and considered that, in a lifetime of appreciation of the female form, she was one of the most attractive women he had ever met. She had shiny black hair, deep blue eyes and a wonderful complexion.

"It seems a good place," said Tony, not entirely truthfully.

"It's a  _wonderful_ place," said Lucy, "my uncle Jim had a vision for what a retirement community could be and he was right. It's very special and I feel privileged to carry on his dream."

"Lucy was training to be a nurse," said Emily, "but she gave it all up when Jim asked her to take this place over."

"I didn't mind," said Lucy, her eyes softening as she gazed at a couple of residents walking across the lawn, "this is just another way of looking after people. Oh, will you excuse me for a moment, there's Dorothy. I picked her engagement ring up from the repair shop. I'll go and give it to her, I know she's been worried about it. Goodbye."

Tim and Tony watched as she walked away and decided that the view from the back was as pleasant as that from the front. They saw her go up and put an arm round Dorothy who gave a squeal of delight and hugged her. They walked away in the direction of Dorothy's apartment. As they disappeared, Tony turned to Emily,

"You seem a bit brighter this afternoon," he observed.

"Yes, I am, thank you for noticing," She replied, "don't tell Lucy, but I took one of my morning pills this afternoon."

"Pardon?" said Tim.

"Well, I have morning pills, afternoon pills and evening pills," explained Emily, "the morning ones nearly always work but the afternoon ones aren't so reliable. So, just occasionally, I take a morning one in the afternoon so that I can get out a bit more."

"You know," said Tim kindly, "they probably aren't any different; it's just that you think they are. Studies have shown that psychology plays a big part in the discernment and experience of pain …"

"I'm sure you're right, Dear," said Emily patting Tim on the hand, "and so it doesn't really matter, does it?" and she walked away, leaving Tim unsure about who had won the argument.

"Let's go and visit Dorothy," said Tony putting an end to Tim's inner dialogue.

"Why?"

"I want to see her ring."

"Thinking of proposing to Emily?" asked Tim.

"No. Lucy is another matter though," said Tony with something like a purring growl.

Lucy had gone by the time they got to Dorothy's apartment.

"Hello, boys," she greeted them, "how nice to have visitors. We don't get many here, you know. Most of us are on our own. Sit down and I'll make you a nice cup of … would you like some cookies … or some cake? I think I have something somewhere. I'll go and look," and she wandered off muttering to herself.

"Lucy said she'd brought your ring," called Tony after her.

Dorothy came back with a delighted smile on her face, "That's right. Such a lovely girl, so understanding and kind. Nothing is too much trouble for her."

"Do you think I could have a look?" said Tony.

Tim looked at him, wondering what excuse he was going to offer but it turned out that none was needed. Dorothy was obviously so delighted to get her ring back that she wanted to share her joy with everyone. She handed a small box to Tony, "my fingers have swollen with the rheumatism," she said, "so I can't wear it anymore. But I can look at it and remember when my Henry proposed. He was a jeweller, you know." She wandered back off to the kitchen, humming a little tune to herself.

Tim and Tony looked at the ring.

"Looks real," said Tim

"That's a big big stone," said Tony as he held it to the light. A memory returned of Ziva breathing on a diamond ring and saying that if condensation formed on the stone then it wasn't a diamond. He breathed on Dorothy's engagement ring and noted rather sadly that condensation stayed there.

Dorothy came back with a plate of cookies and two glasses of milk.

"It was milk you asked for, wasn't it?" she said vaguely, then she looked at Tim with concern, "are you all right, my dear?"

Tony also looked at Tim and noticed that he was wincing a bit.

"It's nothing," said Tim, "I've got a bit of a headache, that's all. It happens sometimes when I drive in a convertible with the top down."

"You're allergic to fun, McKilljoy," said Tony unsympathetically.

Fortunately, Dorothy had a maternal side and she wanted to help, "would you like some Tylenol?"

"That would be great," said Tim trying to smile at her and frown at Tony at the same time. Dorothy went off happily to her bathroom and came back with a bottle of pills which she handed to Tim. He swallowed a couple down with the milk.

"Thank you," he said, "so, Dorothy, your husband was in the jewellery trade?"

"Oh, yes, I was very lucky. I've got lots of lovely things. Henry always said that diamonds are a girl's best friend … after her husband of course, and he made sure I had lots of them. I've had to sell some over the years but I've still got a good collection." She saw Tim and Tony gaze round the apartment in some concern and she went on, "of course, I don't keep them  _here_ , there's a Community safety deposit box vault in the main building. They're safe in there."

Adding this to the list of things to be worried about, Tim and Tony left soon afterwards and went back to the cottage. Tim went to check his emails to see if Abby had come up with anything on the financial adviser. Tony saw him grimacing,

"Head still bad?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Tim, "Tylenol usually work for me but it's not got any better."

"You wanted the top down as well," said Tony beginning to feel a bit guilty about his earlier lack of empathy.

"Sure," agreed Tim, "imagine how loud your singing would have sounded if the top had stayed up."

"Hey," defended Tony, "it was like a road trip. You're meant to sing on a road trip."

"If you say so," sighed Tim.

"Take some more pills," said Tony, "if those aren't working."

"Can't," said Tim, "it's too early. Have to wait a couple hours."

Tony was clearly puzzled at this responsible attitude towards taking medication but shrugged, "go and lie down then. It doesn't look as if you can see straight."

"OK," said McGee, "why don't you check my emails for me. See if Abby has come up with anything."

"'Kay." Said Tony as Tim went off to his room.

It turned out that Abby had been busy with work for other teams so hadn't had time to do much background searching. So far, the financial adviser appeared to be reputable and there had been no complaints. A general search about Cottonwood Vista showed that it had a good reputation and there seemed to be a waiting list for people to come and live there. Tony paused as he read that and narrowed his eyes as he remembered his words to Rush earlier in the day. He and Tim hadn't seen many people around Cottonwood; that might be because they were elderly and kept to their apartments but the weather had been warm and sunny which would normally tempt people to sit outside or at least have their windows open. On reflection, Tony thought that most of the apartments had stayed shut up and there hadn't been many people at Bingo the night before.

Tony scrolled down Abby's email and saw that she had attached a list of the residents. He scanned the names and froze. He got up and went into Tim's room but found that he had fallen asleep so decided not to disturb him but to go and see Emily instead.

"I'll make  _you_  a cup of tea this time," she greeted him, "I feel real embarrassed that I let you make it yesterday."

"It was no problem," said Tony, "and I didn't come for tea."

"Nonsense," she said, "you sit yourself down. I don't often take a morning pill in the afternoon so we might as well make the most of it."

Tony sat down and let Emily make the tea and bring out some shortbread.

"Dorothy was saying that most of the people who live here are on their own," said Tony.

"That's right. Sadie and Jack are the only married couple left."

"Left?"

"There used to be lots. Well, like me and David, Dorothy and her Henry. But it's the way of things, people die."

"But new people come?" said Tony.

"Not as many as used to," observed Emily, "and mostly people on their own. It seems that married couples don't favour us now."

Tony took a sip of his tea and considered his next question, "you mentioned Stuart last night. Who used to help with the singing …"

"And the painting. Yes, he was a dear person."

"Was he married?"

"No. never married but he came here with his sister."

"And is she still here?"

"No, dear, she passed about two years ago but Stuart stayed on."

"And is he still here?"

"Why, no, Dear. I told you, he passed; four months ago."

"What happened?"

"He died."

"Had he been ill?"

"I think he just got old; old and tired. Got slower and slower and then just faded away. We had a lovely service for him."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Not a proper funeral, of course, his folks wanted to bury him back where he came from. So we had a memorial service in the lounge. It was beautiful. We missed his singing, of course, but you can't sing at your own funeral, can you?"

"Not easily," agreed Tony. "Stuart's not a very common name, is it?"

"Don't you think so, Honey? I've known lots of Stuarts in my time, although I guess my time is a bit longer than yours," and she laughed, "but you're right in a way. Stuart was the only Stuart at Cottonwood."

Tony changed the subject, "Dorothy seemed very pleased to get her ring back."

"Oh, yes, wasn't she? She's been so worried about it but she should have known it would be all right. You're lucky you weren't around when her necklace went off to be cleaned; she fretted over that so much it nearly drove me to distraction. But it came back better than ever and she was real pleased."

"She's got a lot of jewellery then?" said Tony.

Emily looked a bit disapproving, "Well, yes, but don't tell people, Honey, we don't want people to know she's got lots of valuable things. It wouldn't be safe."

"Emily," said Tony, "have you invested money since you've been here? With that financial adviser who comes round?"

"No," said Emily, "I haven't got anything to invest. I've just got my pensions and I don't really see that anymore."

"How so?"

"Well, everything gets taken care of for us here. So I just have the money paid into Cottonwood and they give me what's left over after all the rent and bills are paid. It's much simpler that way."

"So you don't have any spare money?"

"No. Say, you weren't after my money, were you?" and she smiled roguishly but then stopped when she saw his concerned face.

"No, I'm not after your money but …"

"But what are you after, Mr DiNozzo?" came Lucy's voice from the doorway.

"Lucy!" said Emily in delight, "I didn't see you there, come in and have some tea. It's still hot."

"Thank you," said Lucy, coming to sit opposite Tony.

"I was just telling Tony about life here at Cottonwood," said Emily.

"So I heard," said Lucy with a concerned look on her face. "You seem to be asking a lot of questions, Mr DiNozzo."

"I'm a curious sort of guy," said Tony, "my co-workers call me DiNosey sometimes."

"You don't think there's anything wrong here, do you?" said Lucy, her lovely face crumpling in worry.

"Of course, there's nothing wrong," said Emily returning with Lucy's cup of tea, "we're all very happy here and lucky to have someone as caring as Lucy."

"Thank you, Emily," said Lucy with a tremulous smile, "you know that it's a privilege to work here."

"But you're not here all the time," said Tony.

"No," agreed Lucy sipping her tea.

"I would have thought it was a full-time job running the place."

"Lucy's very efficient," said Emily, "and she's got lots of other things to do."

"I would like to be here more," said Lucy, "but it's just not possible."

"Why not?" asked Tony.

"I don't think I have to answer that," said Lucy, "I care very much for Cottonwood and I do everything I can for it." Her eyes filled briefly with tears.

"It's because I'm a federal agent," excused Tony, "I can't help but ask questions."

"Although," mused Lucy in reply, "we haven't seen any evidence that you and Mr McGee  _are_  federal agents."

"No," said Emily, casting her mind back to their arrival, "because I looked to see if you were carrying a weapon that first day but I couldn't see one."

"I _am_ a federal agent," said Tony firmly.

"Because I'm beginning to worry," frowned Lucy, "that you and your friend may be here to assess Cottonwood. See if there are any vulnerable people who you could exploit. It seems you've worked out that Dorothy has valuable jewels and now you're trying to find out if Emily has any spare money. I wonder if that's why you're hanging round Mr Rush: I understand he'll have a sizeable amount of money to invest once the sale of his house is completed."

"Look," said Tony, getting ready to stand up, "there are elderly people here who could be …"

His words were cut off as he fell unconscious to the ground. Lucy looked up to see Emily standing with blood dripping from the elephant handle of her walking cane.

"He was saying such terrible things," Emily whispered, "I had to stop him before he did all those horrible things to us."

NCISNCIS

In the guest cottage, Tim was feeling much better. He had taken some more painkillers which had cured his headache. He was just wondering where Tony was when his cell rang,

"McGee," he answered.

"Come quickly," came an anguished voice, "there's been a terrible accident!"

 


	4. Chapter 4

Gibbs frowned at his cell and then at his emptying cup of coffee, not sure which was causing him the more irritation. He was interrupted in this consideration by the arrival of Ducky.

"Good morning, Jethro," said Ducky in his most cheerful voice, "how are you this fine morning?" When he didn't get an immediate response, he continued, "I see. I suppose it is a tad  _quiet_  at the moment without Anthony's running commentary on everything and the tap-tap of Timothy's fingers on his keyboard. Am I right in supposing that our two co-workers are still basking in the sun of California?"

"They'd better not be," growled Gibbs, "they've got work to do."

"Rather odd work, if I may so, Jethro. I understand from Abigail that they were escorting their charge to a motor museum yesterday. I rather envy them the excursion. I've always had a keen interest in automobiles; well, you will have guessed that from my renovation – one might say  _resurrection_  – of my Morgan. I must remember to ask Anthony and Timothy if they saw any Morgans on their visit, I would be most interested to know …"

"Duck," said Gibbs.

"Yes, Jethro?"

"You here for a reason?"

"You mean other than for my internal wager as to how long it will take for your eyes to glaze over as I speak?" said Ducky.

"You have internal wagers with yourself?" said Gibbs momentarily distracted by this new insight into Ducky's garrulity.

"Why yes, Jethro. I find they are the best type. I always win." This won a gruff laugh from Gibbs so Ducky continued, "I have in fact come to tell you something rather worrying."

"Go on, Duck," said Gibbs with a sigh, "what is it?"

"It's connected with Anthony and Timothy's current assignment." Gibbs inclined his head to show his interest. "Anthony mentioned to Abby that most of the residents at Cottonwood Vista seem to be single people, you know, unmarried, widowed or divorced."

"Yep, I know what single means," said Gibbs drily.

"Of course. That is not odd of itself. I would guess that many such communities have a preponderance of unattached people. Why, I understand that gentlemen entering such communities sometimes find themselves the object of unprecedented attentions from the opposite sex. You will know that women do still tend to outlive their male counterparts and this can lead to an imbalance of the sexes. I remember …"

"Duck," said Gibbs, "you're about to win another of your internal wagers. My eyes are beginning to glaze over again."

"I do beg your pardon, Jethro. As I was saying, Abby and I were discussing this phenomenon and we hit upon the notion of an experiment."

"Experiment?" asked Gibbs, "what type of experiment?"

"A good one," said Abby arriving at that moment.

"Then perhaps  _one_ of you could get to the point and share it with the class," said Gibbs.

"But, Gibbs, you're the only one here," pointed out Abby, "so it's not really a class."

"Abby!" said Gibbs warningly.

"Oh, Gibbs," said Abby, "I forgot! You miss them, don't you?" and she came round the desk to wrap her arms around Gibbs' neck.

"They won't be the only ones I'll be missing if you don't hurry up and tell me about this experiment," said Gibbs, "because you and Ducky will be looking for jobs somewhere else."

"Gibbs," said Abby in a shocked voice, "you wouldn't fire me, would you?"

"Don't tempt me, Abs," he said, "now, report!"

Seeing that Abby was still looking hurt, Ducky decided to explain, "We decided to call Cottonwood Vista and enquire about whether they had any vacancies for a retired gentleman of mature years."

"You?" asked Gibbs.

"I'm gratified that you recognise the description, Jethro. Yes, we enquired about the possibility of someone very like me retiring to the charms of Cottonwood Vista. Abigail called first on my behalf."

"Yes," said Abby, "I said that I was looking for a place for my grandfather. I said that I lived close by and thought Cottonwood Vista would be a good place because Gramps would have lots of relatives and friends nearby."

"And?" said Gibbs.

"And they said they were very sorry but they had no vacancies at the moment but would be happy to put Gramps' name on a waiting list."

"Sounds Ok," said Gibbs.

"It almost makes me glad that I do not have any grandchildren," said Ducky, "I cannot imagine being called  _Gramps_  by anyone," he shuddered but, seeing the look on Gibbs' face decided to hurry on. "So then I phoned the retirement community on my own behalf, using another name, of course."

"And?" said Gibbs.

"I said that I was thinking of moving to California for health reasons, that I had no close relatives and didn't know the area."

"And?" said Gibbs again, fearing the answer.

"They said that a vacancy had just arisen and they would be most interested in receiving an application from me."

"There might be all sorts of reasons for that," said Abby.

"Like what?" said Gibbs.

"Well, I can't actually think of any right this minute. I'll have to think about it," said Abby as she twisted her fingers together in anxiety. In the absence of having Bert to hug she squeezed Ducky's arm instead. He smiled sympathetically and patted her hand as they waited for a Gibbs pronouncement. Gibbs' desk phone rang at that moment,

"Gibbs." He listened to the caller, "No, don't do anything yet. Give me your number, I'll get back to you. Yeah." And he put the phone down.

"Jethro?" asked Ducky, "has something happened?"

"That was the Orange County sheriff department. Seems they ran into McGee and DiNozzo yesterday."

"Are they in trouble?" said Abby, "I knew they shouldn't have travelled when Virgo is in the ascendant but they wouldn't listen."

"They got a crank call from someone at Cottonwood claiming that DiNozzo and McGee had kidnapped Rush. They put out a BOLO and found them on the way to that Macaroni place."

"Marconi," corrected Ducky, "but of course, that doesn't matter. Pray continue."

"Not much to say. A patrol car pulled them over. They had a discussion, ironed out the problem and everyone went on their way."

"So why did the Sheriff just call you?" asked Ducky.

"Seems they got another call this morning saying that a large black truck had been seen driving round the place last night," said Gibbs.

"That doesn't sound very important," said Ducky, "why did they phone you about it?"

"It was the same caller as yesterday. They thought it was odd. Sheriff says he thought about going to Cottonwood and trying to get to the bottom of things."

"Indeed," said Ducky, "the Sheriff's department will not be wanting to have someone making nuisance calls to them. Why did they not do as they planned?"

"Wanted to check that it wouldn't interfere with anything McGee and DiNozzo might be doing."

"I know," said Abby excitedly, "why don't you phone Tony and Timmy and see what they think?"

"I've been trying," said Gibbs waving his cell at her, "neither of them are answering."

"Oh, my," said Ducky but before he could expand on this, Gibbs' desk phone rang again.

"Gibbs. OK, put him through," he put his hand over the mouthpiece and said, "Rush is calling," He put the phone on speaker.

"Agent Gibbs?" came Cornelius' voice.

"Yes, Sir, how can I help you?" asked Gibbs.

"I'm a little concerned," said Rush.

Abby and Ducky clutched at each other for comfort.

"Why's that, Sir," said Gibbs calmly.

"I can't find Agents DiNozzo and McGee this morning," said Cornelius.

"When were you expecting them?" asked Gibbs.

"We hadn't made precise plans," admitted Rush, "but we were planning a trip to Venice Beach today and I know that Agent DiNozzo in particular was looking forward to it."

"Perhaps they slept in?" said Abby hopefully.

"Possibly," said Rush, "but there are some strange rumours going round today."

"What sort of rumours?" asked Gibbs.

"That they had been caught in some sort of sinister undertaking; that they're not really federal agents. And I admit that they weren't displaying their badges prominently."

"But you have no doubt that Timothy and Anthony are who they say they are?" asked Ducky.

"No. Well, I might have had doubts. After all the White House didn't actually tell me who they were sending to settle me in, so they could have been imposters."

"But you knew they weren't?" said Gibbs.

"No. I trusted them from the start and then of course, yesterday …"

"Yesterday?" asked Abby.

"We were stopped by a patrol car. A foolish little man here was making mischief and called the police. When they stopped us they found your agents' badges and went away and verified them. Agent Gibbs, am I right to be concerned?"

"I don't think my agents would have disappeared without a good reason," said Gibbs, "but we don't know what that reason is. We won't jump to any conclusions."

"I could tell people that they're wrong," said Rush, "tell them I know they're federal agents."

"No, don't do that," said Gibbs, "I think it would be best if you kept a low profile for a while."

"You think there's something wrong here?" asked Rush, "more than a slow internet connection?"

"Not sure, Sir," said Gibbs, "McGee and DiNozzo had some things they were looking into."

"Do you want me to let you know if Special Agents DiNozzo and McGee turn up?" asked Rush.

"If they turn up," said Gibbs grimly, "you'd better tell them to contact me immediately if they know what's good for them."

"Very well," said Rush, "you'll let me know if anything happens?"

"Yes, Sir, I will," said Gibbs, "and thank you for getting in contact."

"As I said, Agent Gibbs, I was concerned. I still am. I like your agents," and with that, he put the phone down.

"Abby," ordered Gibbs, "find the quickest way for me to get down to Orange County."

"And me," said Ducky, "Well, let's face it, Jethro, I will merge in better than you and, who knows, what support our boys may need?"

"OK," said Gibbs, "I'm going to contact the Sheriff's department and ask them to keep an eye on Cottonwood Vista."

NCISNCIS

"Come quickly, there's been a terrible accident!"

"Who is this?" asked McGee, "what's happened?"

"Lucy Stanhope. I'm in Emily's apartment. Mr DiNozzo has had a fall."

"How?" said Tim even as he ran out of the cottage.

"I don't know. I've called an ambulance. They're on their way. Please hurry!"

Tim raced to Emily's apartment and ran straight in. The first thing he noticed was Emily, white-faced and shaking, sipping at a drink. Lucy was bending over her saying,

"Go on, drink it all. It'll calm you down," she looked up when she saw Tim arrive, "thank goodness you're here," she said and she pointed to where Tony was lying on the floor with blood oozing from a wound on the side of his head.

Tim dropped to his knees beside Tony and felt Tony's throat. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a strong and steady pulse, he tried to rouse Tony but got no response.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," said Lucy, "it's all a bit confusing. Oh, I'm glad you're here," she said as someone else entered the room.

Tim looked round and saw a smartly dressed man about Lucy's age standing in the doorway.

"This is my fiancé, Dwight," said Lucy, "I called him to come and help."

Tim nodded distractedly at Dwight and then heard something crash to the floor. He saw that Emily had fallen asleep and had dropped her cup as she did so.

"I gave her one of her sleeping pills," said Lucy, "she was really quite distressed and agitated. And I didn't want her getting in the way."

"In the way of what?" asked Tim.

"Of this," said Dwight, as he produced a gun and pointed it at Tim, "hand over your weapon."

Tim hesitated but Lucy said, "I would do as he says. While you're thinking of jumping Dwight, I'll shoot your meddlesome friend." Tim saw that she was holding Tony's gun and pointing it at his prone body. "And then," said Lucy meditatively, "I might shoot dear Emily, and then you."

"You won't get away with this," said McGee, thinking as he said this that he would despair if he gave any of the characters in his novels such clichéd words.

"Possibly not," mused Lucy, "but you won't be around to know, will you?"

Tim found that to be an unanswerable argument so he handed over his gun and allowed himself to have his hands tied behind his back.

"I suppose you didn't call an ambulance?" he said.

"No," agreed Lucy, "that would have been a waste. And I hate waste."

Shortly afterwards, under cover of darkness, Dwight and McGee, temporarily untied, carried Tony out to a black truck leaving Emily drooling sleepily in her arm chair.

They drove a few miles away from Cottonwood to what seemed to be an office building surrounded by a number of large warehouses and storage units. McGee thought he spotted a tall chimney before he was hustled into one of the stores. Tim helped Dwight lay Tony on a thin mattress on the floor. Lucy Tim's wrists and told Dwight to not to re-tie them,

"We don't want to leave any marks," she said, "and I don't think they're going anywhere."

She pointed to another mattress on the floor, "there's your bed, there's a toilet through that door. No window, I'm afraid. It might get a bit stinky. Never mind. I expect you'll have other things to worry about." And with that she and Dwight left making sure McGee heard the locks being turned as they closed the metal door behind them.

Tim went over to the mattress where Tony lay but he was still not stirring. Tim noticed that one of his sleeves was rolled up and when he looked closer he saw a spot of blood in the crook of his elbow making him suspect that Tony had been injected with something to make him sleep. Tim was relieved to think that was why he was unconscious and tried not to think about the effects of sedation on someone who was probably concussed. He went into the small bathroom and wetted some paper to bathe the wound on Tony's head; then he settled down to wait and try to figure a way out of their predicament.

NCISNCIS

As the sun began to rise the next day, Tony began at last to stir.

"Ouch," he groaned.

Tim scooted over to sit by him and prevent him getting up too quickly,

"Morning," he said, "how's your head?"

"What?" mumbled Tony, "how's yours? You're the one who had the headache."

"I think yours might be worse," said Tim, "here, have some water."

"What? What's going on? Where are we?"

"We got kicked out of the guest cottage," said Tim, "we've been relocated."

"Now," said Tony, managing to sit up at last, "is not the time for riddles, Tim. Ouch, you're right, I have got a headache. What happened?"

"You let a beautiful woman get the drop on you," said Tim.

"What?"

"Lucy knocked you out."

"Ouch. No, she didn't" said Tony.

"You're in denial, of course she did," said Tim.

"No, she didn't," repeated Tony.

"Memory loss is common after a blow to the head," said Tim.

"I haven't lost my memory," insisted Tony, "it wasn't Lucy who hit me. It was Emily."

"Emily?" said Tim, "sweet, gentle Emily?"

"Not so gentle," said Tony as he felt the back of his head.

"Why did she hit you?"

"She got the wrong end of the stick, in a manner of speaking," grimaced Tony, "Lucy managed to insinuate that you and I were up to no good and were about to prey on the good people of Cottonwood. I get the feeling that Emily wasn't going to take that lying down. The next thing I knew  _I_ was lying down and the lovely Lucy was injecting me with something. How did we get here?"

"' _Lovely Lucy'_  has a boyfriend who looks as if he does a lot of weight training. He helped."

"And where's here?" asked Tony, still trying to catch up.

"Don't know. No windows in the truck so I couldn't see where we were going. We drove for about half an hour. Roads seemed quite smooth and we didn't seem to climb many hills. I couldn't see much when we arrived, looks like some of industrial site. Big chimney in one building and lots of storage buildings."

"Good job, McScout," praised Tony, "looks like this is going to be a bit tricky, eh?"

Before Tim could reply, they heard the sound of the door being unlocked. Dwight and Lucy came in, Lucy wore a big smile and Dwight carried a gun which he kept pointed at them.

"Good morning," said Lucy brightly, "I hope you slept well."

"Bed was a bit lumpy," said Tony, "but whatever you injected me with gave me the best night's sleep I've had for ages. So it's not all bad."

"It's good to look on the bright side," said Lucy with apparent sincerity.

"You're a regular ray of sunshine," said Tony.

"I like people to be happy," said Lucy.

"Is that why you keep the old people at Cottonwood in pain?" asked Tony.

"What?" asked McGee.

"I didn't realise at first, Tim," said Tony, "but the Tylenol Dorothy gave you didn't work, did they?"

"No."

"And Emily. With her morning pills that work and her afternoon ones that don't. Do you have something to do with that, Lucy?"

"Old people take too many pills," said Lucy, "it's wasteful and expensive. They don't need to be walking around and doing so much at their time of life."

"Except when you  _want_  them to be doing things," said Tony, "so Emily's morning pills work because you want her to do a shift in the morning but the afternoon ones don't because you don't need her in the afternoon. And Dorothy doesn't really need Tylenol so she might as well have something even cheaper."

"And I suppose if Dorothy's in pain it'll keep her more confused and not notice what you're doing to her jewellery," said Tim.

"I don't steal her jewellery," said Lucy, "she's very happy with what she's got."

"Except it's not diamonds any more, is it?" said Tony, "but I suppose it's a waste for her to have diamonds?"

"Yes," said Lucy calmly, "she doesn't need them. She couldn't even wear that engagement ring she kept on talking about."

"But you'll be able to?" ventured Tim.

"No," said Lucy with a touch of outrage, "it's far too old-fashioned but it'll help buy a modern one that will suit me better," and she stretched out her left hand to admire it.

"I'm guessing the financial adviser is a friend too," said Tony.

"Oh, more than a friend," said Lucy, casting an adoring glance at Dwight.

"I suppose you'd say that your old people don't need their money either," said Tim.

"I never made them go hungry," said Lucy virtuously, "the food is always good. Most of them like not having to worry. They hand their money over to the Community and don't have to worry about it. It's a kindness to them."

"And they're on their own," said Tony, "nobody to notice if things are going wrong."

"It's such a shame when people don't have family," said Lucy, "so I become like their family. They all adore me, you know," she said complacently.

Tim felt the bile rising in his throat at her attitude, "but it's wrong," he said, "these people are vulnerable. They trust you. They …" he stuttered to a halt as words failed him.

Lucy just stared at him, "but they've had their lives, they don't need much."

"And you do?" asked Tony.

"Of course," said Lucy, "I was brought up to like nice things and to hate waste. I really hate waste."

"I'm guessing the nursing training helped?" said Tony.

"Oh, yes, it turned out to be useful. I had a boyfriend in the pharmacy, he taught me a lot about drugs. And it made Uncle Jim happy too; he liked the idea of me working in a 'caring profession'."

"And did you like nursing?" asked Tim.

"Of course not," said Lucy, "sick people are so  _ugly_. I wanted to be an actor but Uncle Jim wouldn't pay."

"I don't think you need any training in acting," said Tony, "you seem to be fooling people pretty well already."

"Thank you," said Lucy.

"You must be doing quite well," said Tony, "making the residents do the work, stealing their money, jewellery and expensive drugs."

"I suppose so," said Lucy.

"But that still wasn't enough, was it?" said Tony.

"What?" said Tim.

"What happened to Stuart Murray?" asked Tony.

"Who's Stuart Murray?" said Tim.

"The man who used to do the painting and lead the singing," said Tony.

"I thought he died," said Tim, "Emily said so."

"That's right. Except he's still showing on the list of residents that Abby got us."

"So?" said Tim.

"So, I suspect that Miss Stanhope here doesn't tell anyone when someone dies. That way she carries on collecting their pensions and benefits and keeps all their money. If they have any relatives, she doesn't tell them and they're probably not interested anyway. How many  _dead_ people are still living at Cottonwood, Lucy?"

"That's enough!" said Dwight, "come on Lucy, let's go."

"About five," said Lucy, "but nobody cared about them. The only people who cared were their friends at Cottonwood so it's only fair that when they died they carried on benefitting Cottonwood."

"Benefitting  _you_!" shouted Tim.

Lucy shrugged, "Nobody needed their money. Nobody was any poorer for it coming to me. It was just a waste to let it go to ungrateful relations or back to the government."

"What did they die of?" asked Tim, "or did you help with that too?"

"They just died," said Lucy, "I would never kill them."

"What did you do with them?" asked Tony, "where are their bodies?"

"Dwight is so talented," said Lucy, "he's a funeral director as well as being good at finance."

"That's why there's a chimney," said Tim, "this is a crematorium. You just burned them."

"No," said Lucy, "that would be wasteful. We've got them in cold storage, until we can make arrangements."

"Arrangements?" asked Tony.

"It would be a waste just to burn the bodies," said Lucy, "when people need them for medical research."

"And when they'll pay a fortune for them," said Tim.

"That's true," said Lucy, "although they don't pay as much for old people. They pay more for young people."

"Young people?" asked Tony.

"Well, young _er_ ," said Lucy looking at him appraisingly, "they pay a lot for heads but I don't think we'll be able to let them have yours. Too easily identifiable."

"What a waste," said Tony sympathetically.

"I know," said Lucy mournfully, "but there may be a way round it. And I need to work out a way to kill you so that it doesn't get detected when you get dissected. Here, I've brought you some breakfast. Eat up. I want to keep the bodies in good condition."

With that, she placed a plastic container of food on the floor, smiled and backed out of the room with Dwight.

Left alone, Tim and Tony looked at each other in horror,

"We're in trouble, aren't we?" said Tim.

"You think?" said Tony.

 


	5. Chapter 5

It was late afternoon when Ducky and Gibbs arrived in Fullerton, the nearest city to Cottonwood Vista. While part of Gibbs wanted to drive up to the Retirement Community and ransack it in a search for his missing agents, the other part knew that it was better to adopt a softly-softly approach. So far as they knew Tony and Tim had not found anything that hinted at violence but rather just the possibility of some rather shabby treatment of the senior citizens. Gibbs didn't know what they would be looking for if they stormed into the Cottonwood so thought he would find a way of going in more quietly.

"It feels as if we are not doing anything, Jethro," said Ducky.

"We've got a BOLO out on them and on their rental," said Gibbs, "the LA office are on standby and the Sheriff's department is on alert and keeping a watch on the place. We're doing something."

"I know," said Ducky, "but I feel we should be doing  _more_."

"And tomorrow we will," said Gibbs with a calm he was not quite feeling, "tomorrow I visit Cottonwood Vista with my uncle who is thinking of moving to the area when I go back to Alaska.  _That_  will be doing something."

"You're quite right, Jethro, of course. You know, part of me is rather looking forward to the visit. I did quite a bit of acting in my younger days and when I was with the regiment. The Christmas shows were quite a highlight …"

Gibbs tuned out as Ducky rambled on; he knew that talking soothed Ducky. He took a moment of two out of his worries to consider the unlikelihood of a functional mute (whose idea of horror was thinking out loud) being close friends with a man from whom silence meant a nasty bout of laryngitis. Then he sighed at the thought that the person on his team with whom he worked best was also someone who needed to process his thoughts out loud and with that thought his mind lurched back to the fear that he could have lost that person for ever.

NCISNCIS

Tim and Tony spent an uneventful day locked in the storage unit: in other circumstances they would have called it dull but, at the moment, dull didn't seem the worst thing that could happen.

They had examined the food and drink supplied by Lucy and, in the end, had decided to consume it. The crackers, cheese and bottled water seemed to be in their original untouched packaging and they couldn't see a way that it could have meddled with. So, reluctantly, they ate and drank as they looked around at their prison.

"Don't suppose you've got some sort of electronic device on you which can shatter locks when you direct a wave of high pitched something at it?" asked Tony.

"Didn't think I'd need it," said Tim, "left it at the cottage." He saw Tony about to ask another question so continued, "No, I haven't got a magical electric device  _and_ I don't think the one you're hoping for has been invented yet."

"Oh," said Tony, "I guess if this was the year 2050 we'd stand a better chance."

"More like 2150," said Tim, betraying that he had given this some thought.

"So, if you haven't got the mythical thingy (which, by the way, I totally think someone should invent), have you been obeying rule number 9?"

"They took my knife away from me," said McGee.

"What about my Christmas present to you?" asked Tony.

"My subscription to GSM for Brainiacs?" said McGee, "no, why would I have brought that with me?"

"No, not  _that_ totally awesome gift – and you're very welcome, by the way, - no, the belt buckle."

"Oh," said McGee, "the one with the … with the?"

"Yes, the knife. Well?"

"Yes, I'm wearing it."

"Good. I've got no idea how we're going to use it but every little helps as Senior says when he tries to empty my bank account."

"Don't think we're going to be able to cut our way out," said McGee as he looked at the metal walls of their prison, "and even supposing we could get up to those windows, I don't think either of us would fit through them."

Tony looked up at the windows and then wished he hadn't as he felt a wave of dizziness hit him.

"You all right?" asked Tim, seeing him suddenly close his eyes. "Tony?" he said when he got no reply, "what's wrong?"

Tony risked opening his eyes, "Much as I love you, Tim, I'd rather not be seeing two of you."

"D'you think you've got a concussion?" asked Tim.

"Yeah, I reckon Emily used to coach little league. She's got hell of an arm. Just my bad luck she'd decided to take a morning pill that afternoon."

"Why don't you lie back down again?" suggested Tim, "don't think we're going anywhere for a bit."

"OK," said Tony, as he obeyed Tim, "I think better with my eyes closed."

As Tony dozed off, Tim did a thorough examination of the storage unit but unfortunately didn't discover a hidden door, loose flooring or a forgotten box of tools. Tony woke up again after a couple of hours and said,

"Find anything McHoundDog?"

"No," said McGee gloomily, "did you come up with any bright ideas, any movie inspirations?"

"Not really," said Tony, "I think there's only two ways we're getting out of here."

"Yeah, what are they?"

"Under our own steam or Gibbs comes in with the cavalry."

"D'you think Gibbs will come?" asked McGee hopefully.

"He's the Boss, of course he will," said Tony firmly.

"When d'you think they'll start to get worried?" asked Tim.

"McGee," said Tony patiently, "how often does Abby call you in a day?"

"Well," said Tim thoughtfully.

"Approximately," said Tony, "you don't need to be precise."

"In that case; lots," said Tim.

"And what do you think she'll do when she thinks you're ignoring her?"

"She'll either start plotting how to boil my blood when she finds me or …"

"… or she'll tell Gibbs," finished Tony.

"And you think Gibbs will believe her. I mean, will take her seriously?"

"Yep. Especially when he takes into account that I missed my 06.30 call to him," said Tony.

"You call him every day at  _06.30_?" said Tim.

"When we're away, yes," said Tony, "hey, I negotiated it down from 05.00."

"So, Gibbs'll be worried," said Tim.

"The Gibbs gut will be churning," agreed Tony.

"So, we could just wait," said Tim.

"We could. But Gibbs won't have any idea where we went," pointed out Tony, "and I don't see how electronic searches are going to help him find us."

"So, what's your plan?" asked McGee.

"Haven't really got one," admitted Tony, "but I think the only way to get out is somehow to go through Dwight and Lucy."

"They seem pretty cautious," pointed out Tim, "I don't think they're going to be easy to overpower."

"They might get careless," said Tony, "especially if they think I'm still suffering the aftereffects of Emily's ministrations. That was one thought that came to me while I was meditating just now."

"That might work," said Tim, "it seems to be just the two of them in on all this so it's two against two."

"Two Gibbs trained federal agents against two mere mortals," said Tony, "They don't stand a chance. And they'll be reluctant to shoot us because it will make our bodies less commercially viable."

"Tony?" asked McGee tentatively.

"Yes, grasshopper?"

"Those old people they've got in cold storage. D'you think they died of natural causes or did Lucy help them on their way?"

"Don't know, Tim. I'm hoping they just died of old age. If they didn't, well, we've got a lot to answer for."

"Why?"

"Because if Lucy's plans work that'll mean she's worked out a way of killing without leaving a trace and …"

"And?"

"And we'll have given her a taste for killing."

"Oh. You know, you said you could only think of two ways we're leaving here. You were wrong."

"Really? Enlighten me, McGee."

"Our dead bodies could be carried out."

"Way to go, Tim. You certainly know how to lighten the atmosphere," said Tony but when Tim looked him in the eye he could see that Tony had already considered that possibility.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully until Lucy and Dwight came in towards evening.

"Hey, it's Loopy Lu and Dumbo Dwight," said Tony as he lay on the mattress.

"We've brought you some more food," said Lucy kindly as she loftily ignored Tony's greeting, "you don't look too good," she added.

"Funny thing," mused Tony, "being bashed over the head and then drugged doesn't really agree with me."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't" said Lucy sympathetically.

"He needs a doctor," said Tim, "you're a nurse, you should understand that. I thought nurses were supposed to have compassion."

"Yes," said Lucy, "they are. But I wasn't a very good nurse and anyway, it would be a bit wasteful to get a doctor to come here."

"Why?" asked Tim.

"Well, it's not as if he's going to get  _better_ , is it?" said Lucy logically.

"Perfection  _is_  hard to improve on," said Tony lazily, "I'm glad you see that."

It didn't seem that Lucy understood humour or sarcasm so she ignored this, "I've been doing some research," she said.

"Oh, good," said Tim with false enthusiasm.

"Yes," she went on happily, "and I think it's going to be simple after all."

"What is?" asked Tim.

"Killing you without leaving too much of a trace,"

"That  _is_ good news," said Tony.

Again, Lucy blinked slightly at this odd response but continued unperturbed, "yes, I'm just going to keep on sedating you until your body gives out."

"Excellent," said Tony, "that sounds great."

"And," said Lucy, "as _you're_ already damaged," she pointed to the wound on the side of Tony's head, "I'm going to experiment on you first. I'll start off with small doses because I don't want to use more than I need to."

"Yeah, that would be  _wasteful,_  wouldn't it, Loopy Lu?" said Tony trying not to show his alarm.

"That's not a nice thing to say to me," said Lucy with an uncharacteristic touch of anger. "I'm not sure that you're a very  _pleasant_ person."

Tony wasn't often lost for words but he couldn't think of an answer to that. Tim and Tony watched as Lucy brought out a syringe and small vial from a pocket. They looked at each other and gave a small nod of agreement that now would be a good time to try to overpower Dwight and Lucy. It seemed, however, that their captors had anticipated this,

"You," said Dwight, pointing his gun at McGee, "into the bathroom. Now!"

Tim hesitated until Lucy said sweetly, "If you don't, I'll shoot Mr DiNozzo. In the leg, I think. It would be a shame because it would mean that we wouldn't be able to sell the leg but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

There seemed no likelihood that Lucy would not follow through on her threat so Tim allowed himself to be locked into the bathroom. He wanted to bang on the door and shout but decided it was pointless and that it would be better if he listened to what was happening on the other side of the door.

Dwight pointed his weapon at Tony once McGee was locked up, allowing Lucy to put her gun away again. She reached for Tony's arm and swabbed a patch of skin,

"We wouldn't want you to get an infection, would we?" she said.

Tony winced as the needle went in, he didn't think this was going to help with his needle phobia.

"You haven't got much of a bedside manner there, have you. Luce?" he said and then, seeing her mouth open to speak, went on, "let me guess. It would be a waste to use it on me?"

"I'm glad you understand," said Lucy, "hmmm, that's a nasty mark Emily gave you. I might let her have a morning pill in the afternoon tomorrow, as a reward. She's very confused, poor thing. She had a nightmare that she'd hit someone with her cane. I persuaded her that she would never do something like that and that perhaps she should cut down on her pills if they were giving her bad dreams. So, it's win-win, really." She stood up from the mattress and looked down, "you'll just be groggy for the rest of the day. I'll probably give you a bigger dose tomorrow."

"What time are you going into the old crocks' place tomorrow?" asked Dwight.

"About 10.00," said Lucy, "I've got to see a new applicant. Man from Washington is coming with his nephew."

"Nephew?" said Dwight, "I thought you didn't want people with relatives?"

"I don't" agreed Lucy, "they get in the way so much. But Ronald Teal's an exception. The nephew's about to go back to Alaska so he's not going to be around much and Mr Teal is about to sell an enormous house in DC so he'll be in need of financial advice. Come on, I've finished here. You can let your friend out now, Mr DiNozzo."

Dwight and Lucy backed away and Tony lurched to his feet and went to release Tim.

"What happened?" asked Tim.

"She injected me," said Tony crossly, "what did you think she was going to do? Bake me a cupcake?"

"How do you feel?"

"Fine. It won't take effect that quickly. Oops," he said, as he sat down quickly, "might have spoken too soon there."

"Have something to eat and drink," said Tim, "drugs might not act so quickly if your stomach is full."

"Thanks, McGenius," said Tony, "oh, and I think the cavalry might be on their way."

"What?"

"Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Loopy Lu has got a new applicant to interview tomorrow."

"I heard. So what?"

"Did you hear the name?"

"No."

"Ronald Teal."

"Should that mean something?" asked Tim.

"Think. Go on, McScout; you must have your Nature badge."

"Oh," said McGee as understanding dawned, "teal is a type of duck. Do you think Ducky is on his way?"

"With his nephew who lives in Alaska. I can sort of picture Gibbs in the frozen wastes. Very rugged. Very manly. He could build himself an igloo."

"Tony. Eat something," said Tim firmly.

The drug in Tony's system didn't knock him out but he was sleepy and docile for the rest of the day. Lucy's top up in the morning made him even woozier and it was a few minutes before he was able to rouse himself enough to release McGee from the bathroom.

NCISNCIS

Abby called Gibbs on their way to Cottonwood.

"Gibbs, I've been doing some more digging on Cottonwood Vista. It's a bit hinky."

"In what way, Abigail?" asked Ducky.

"The reported death rate is  _really_  low," said Abby.

"That's good, isn't it?" asked Gibbs.

"I must disagree, Jethro," said Ducky, "one would expect a higher than normal number of deaths among such an elderly population. I don't have the figures at the forefront of my mind but …"

"I have, Duckman," said Abby, "and I'm telling you that Cottonwood is  _way_  below what it should be."

"And that means?" asked Gibbs.

"Well, it might mean that the owners of this retirement community have discovered the elixir of eternal life," said Ducky, "but I fear it is more likely that they are simply not reporting when one of their residents passes into the next life."

"So their pensions and benefits don't stop being paid?" said Gibbs.

"Absolutely, oh wise one," said Abby, "and as we know that they don't like residents with relatives …"

"Nobody is any the wiser if people seem to live for ever," said Gibbs.

"That's not the only weird thing," said Abby, "their drugs bill is tiny."

"Go on," said Gibbs, "explain."

"I would surmise that Abigail is suggesting that the residents are either buying all their medication themselves or are not being supplied with it as prescribed. This is quite distressing, Jethro."

"Why wouldn't this have been spotted before?" asked Gibbs.

"Gibbs," said Abby, "the authorities are looking for high death rates and high drug use not the reverse. On the face of it Cottonwood looks to be wonderful."

"OK, Abs, thanks," said Gibbs. "We're about ten minutes out from the place. Tell the Sheriff's department to be on alert."

"Will do, Bossman. Can we check the earwigs?"

"Abs, we've tested them three times already," protested Gibbs.

"I know. But just for me? I want to be really sure you don't disappear too."

NCISNCIS

As they arrived at the reception building, Gibbs noticed an elderly man hiding behind a bush. For a moment he thought it was Rush but he didn't recognise him so he wondered if it might be the resident busybody and nuisance caller.

Emily greeted them with her usual delight although Tony and Tim could have told them that it was at slightly lower power than normal.

"You must be Mr Teal," she said, "and?" She looked questioningly at Gibbs.

"This is my nephew, Jenson Gordon. My dear sister's only boy," said Ducky, "may I say how delighted I am to meet you."

"Oh, the pleasure is mine," said Emily, "my name is Emily and I hope we will be able to welcome you to join our little community here."

"I hope so too, dear lady. And please, call me Ronald."

"Good morning, gentlemen," came Lucy's voice as she emerged from the office behind reception, "I can see that Emily has already welcomed you to Cottonwood Vista. I'm Lucy Stanhope, the administrator. Would you like to come through to my office?"

"Would it be possible to have a tour of the community first, my dear," said Ducky, "I feel I would then be better informed to ask you questions."

"Why, of course," said Lucy, "I do hope you find Cottonwood to be a good place for you. I may be biased but I feel that it has such a welcoming atmosphere. We aim to build community and foster independence here," her eyes misted over as she listed the attractions, "it's a very special place to me," she said huskily.

"Indeed," said Ducky, finding himself rather moved by her depth of feeling about the place.

"Shall we start the tour?" said Gibbs brusquely. He wanted to get moving and also thought that impatience would fit in with his cover as an uncaring nephew.

Gibbs and Ducky had agreed that they would not ask any awkward questions so they didn't comment on the peeling paintwork, long grass or low number of residents. Instead, Ducky waxed lyrical over the delights of the place and expressed interest in the way in which people were encouraged to keep active. As the tour ended, Gibbs excused himself when Ducky was about to start talking finances with Lucy. He had earlier arranged to speak to Cornelius Rush and now he went to his apartment.

"Special Agent Gibbs?" Rush asked when Gibbs knocked on his door.

"Yes."

"Come in. Have you any word on Tony and Tim?"

"Not yet. What can you tell me?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. The residents have been told that there were two people here posing as federal agents. I've allowed it to seem that I was taken in by them too. Freddie Metcalfe is in his element."

"Freddie Metcalfe?"

"A rather unpleasant little man who lives here. I suspect it was he who called the sheriff's department when I was out with your agents the other day."

"And why is he in his element?"

"He likes trouble and I think he likes spying on people."

"Do you know where he'll be now?" asked Gibbs.

"Probably hanging round reception," said Rush disdainfully, "he seems to like keeping an eye on who's coming and going."

"Sir, will you come with me. Point him out to me," said Gibbs, "it might be important."

Cornelius and Gibbs walked to the reception area where Rush was proved to be right. Freddie Metcalfe was still lurking behind a bush. Gibbs sent Rush on ahead and, while Freddie was focussed on him, was able to sneak up behind him.

"Mr Metcalfe," he said, "have you been making phone calls to the Sheriff's department?"

Freddie jumped, "what if I have? It's a citizen's duty to report odd goings on to the authorities."

"I'm sure it is," said Gibbs weighing Metcalfe up, "but the information is supposed to be accurate."

"Mine always is!" protested Metcalfe.

"That's not what I've heard," said Gibbs.

"Well, you've heard wrong," said Freddie, "I record everything meticulously, it's not my fault that the authorities don't take me seriously."

"So, what sort of thing do you record?" asked Gibbs.

"Who comes and goes," said Freddie who was so delighted to have someone actually listen to him for once, that he didn't think to ask what right Gibbs had to question him.

"What?  General descriptions?" asked Gibbs casually, hiding his excitement.

"No, what good would that be?" said Metcalfe scornfully, "No.  Names, licence plates, time in and time out."

"So, the black van you saw the other night. Which you reported as suspicious. You have a licence plate?"

"Of course; the Sheriff's department didn't want to know what it was. They weren't really interested. They never are."

"I am," said Gibbs gently, "will you show me?"

"Of course," said Freddie, "just let me find the right page in my notebook. Can I just say what a change it makes to have someone appreciate what I do?"

"Sir," said Gibbs, "you don't know how much I appreciate you at the moment."

While Freddie riffled through his book, Ducky approached Gibbs.

"What a charming young lady, Je … Jenson. I would surmise that she has not got a bad bone in her body … either that or she is the most duplicitous person I have ever met. I can't decide."

Freddie gave a crow of triumph as he found the information, "here it is," he said, "that's the licence plate."

"Thank you, Sir. Come on Uncle Ronnie, I need to call Cousin Abigail."

Ducky and Gibbs went back to their car, "Abby," said Gibbs when she answered the phone, "got a licence plate for you. Find out who owns it and where they live. I'll wait."

"Gibbs," said Abby after a few moments, "it's registered to the Cottonwood Friendly Funeral Parlour. And Gibbs, the owner, Dwight, multitasks. He's a financial adviser too."

"OK," said Gibbs, "we'll pay him a visit. Send us the details. Come on, Duck."

"Very well. May I just say that I don't really appreciate the name Ronnie …"

NCISNCIS

Tony lay half asleep on his mattress, trying to get his sluggish brain to work. McGee was talking to him, trying to keep him awake but Tony found that he kept losing the thread of what he was saying. He woke up a little when the door opened and Dwight walked in.

"Where's Lucy?" asked McGee, surprised to see him on his own.

"At Cottonwood," said Dwight, "I've been thinking."

"And you're going to let us go?" mumbled Tony.

"No," said Dwight, "I think Lucy's got the wrong idea. All this fixation on waste is dumb. We're going to do this my way."

"And what way is that?" asked McGee nervously.

"We're not going to do this gradually. I've fired up the ovens. What better way to dispose of bodies than in a crematorium?"

"What will you tell Lucy?" said McGee.

"She'll understand," said Dwight.

"Wouldn't bank on it," said Tony, "she's the sort of person who'd eat their pet dog when it went to the big dog house in the sky. Don't what she'd do to a double-crossing fiancé. Still, it's your funeral. Pun intended!"

"No," said Dwight grimly, "it's yours. You first," he said as he waved his gun at McGee. "I'll come back for  _you_  later," he said to Tony who had collapsed back onto the mattress after his speech. "Come on," he said again to McGee, "I don't care if I have to shoot you, it'll just mean a little bit of mopping up blood."

McGee decided to do what he was told, hoping he would have a chance to get away from Dwight as they walked to the crematorium. Dwight took no chances, he made sure he was out of reach of McGee as he gestured to Tim to move ahead. As they began their grim walk, Tim was trying to convince himself that Dwight had not locked the door behind them.

 


	6. Chapter 6

McGee walked as slowly as Dwight would allow him. He searched the route in the hope of finding something he could use as a weapon but Dwight ensured that he kept to the middle of the path leading to the building with the ominous chimney.

"We're federal agents," Tim said in a reasonable voice, "people will be looking for us. Kidnap is bad enough but murdering federal agents … well, you'll probably never come out of jail."

"Shut up," said Dwight, "you're not going to talk your way out of this. You might as well save your breath or use it to say your prayers."

Dwight had prudently left the wide door open to the building containing the furnace so he was able to gesture to McGee to go straight through. McGee could feel the heat coming off the furnace and he took a moment or two to hope that Dwight was going to kill him before cremating him.

"What will Lucy say?" asked McGee.

"Won't matter to you," said Dwight.

"She'll be mad," said Tim, "she'll say killing us is a waste."

"She'll get over it," said Dwight, "I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be."

"Guess that's how you managed to get all your customers to invest everything with you," said McGee.

"None of them have complained. Yet. Sure they might be a bit unhappy when the investments mature but most of them will be dead by then so it won't matter to them."

"And you don't care?" said McGee, "what if it was your grandparents who were being swindled?"

"My grandparents were generous people. They always said that the younger generation were more important than them. They wouldn't mind."

"But it's wrong," said Tim, "taking advantage of people."

"World's a mixed up place. There's not enough to go round, got to take what you can."

Tim gazed at Dwight, realising that despite a career in law enforcement he still didn't understand the wickedness he often encountered. As he stared, his eyes flickered momentarily as he focussed on something behind Dwight. Dwight noticed Tim's eye movement and span round in alarm to find out what Tim was looking at; Tim took the opportunity to whisk out his belt knife and prepare to throw it at Dwight.

NCISNCIS

Tony jerked awake in sudden alarm. Where was Tim? As he looked round the room in panic he remembered that Dwight had come and taken Tim away, how long ago had that been? There was no way he could tell.

Tony hauled himself to his feet but found he couldn't stand completely upright as his body refused to obey his mind. He managed to stagger to the door and rattled the handle but the door didn't budge, he leaned against it in despair and fought against the urge to slip down to the floor and sleep. As he wondered what to do, he thought about the door again and wondered if he had been trying to open it the wrong way. He tried again and realised that the door opened inward not outward and that Dwight had not stopped to lock it.

Finding that he could get out of the storage unit gave Tony a burst of energy and he lurched along for a few steps before stopping to try to work out where to go. He span round and then spotted a chimney a little distance away and he decided to make for that; as he focussed his eyes a bit more he saw Dwight shepherd McGee indoors and he realised that he might be in time after all. Concentrating as hard as he could he staggered towards the building, noticing that Tim was talking to Dwight who had his back to the open door. As his tired mind tried to formulate a plan he left the path so nobody inside the building would be able to see him approach. He leant on the wall by the door as he tried to think what to do.

He heard an exclamation from Dwight.

"Nice try, nearly had me fooled. What you gonna do? Stab me with your belt? Have to do better than that."

Tony smiled at his mental picture of Tim drawing his buckle knife but knew he had to act quickly. He looked around and spotted something which might give him an advantage.

Inside, Tim was standing with his knife drawn and wishing that Dwight had been distracted for just a second longer. As he debated whether to throw the knife in the hope he could be quicker than his captor his eyes once again flickered to a spot behind Dwight.

"You're not going to catch me out twice," jeered Dwight, keeping his eyes on McGee as he levelled his gun on McGee in preparation for shooting him.

It was at that moment that a coffin truck came hurtling through the door barging into Dwight who in turn fell on to McGee. His gun went off as he tumbled forward. Tony fell back exhausted by the effort of shoving the truck towards Dwight.

NCISNCIS

"Jethro," said Ducky plaintively, "if you want me to navigate you will need to drive slowly enough for me to actually see the road signs."

"In a hurry, Duck," said Gibbs.

"That much is obvious! And why are we travelling in such a tumultuous way, may I ask?"

"Seems to me that a funeral home is a pretty convenient place for hiding and storing bodies, Duck."

"You think our boys might be there?"

"I trust Freddie Metcalfe."

"Indeed? Why?"

"He thought the black van was suspicious, that's good enough for me."

"But he also thought that Timothy and Anthony driving with Mr Rush to be suspicious too. And we know  _that_  was not."

"OK, Duck, you really want to know why I'm driving in this  _tumultuous_ way?"

"I would be obliged."

"My  _gut._ "

Ducky paused for thought, "Then, Jethro, might I suggest that you put your foot down. Take the next left turn."

Gibbs slowed down a little as they drove along the lane that led to the funeral parlour; he didn't want the screech of tyres to give the alarm. They parked in front of the office but couldn't see anyone at work inside.

"Look," said Ducky, "is that the black van that Mr Metcalfe deemed to be suspicious?"

Gibbs glanced at the licence plate, "Yep, probably means that Dwight is around here somewhere."

"Although he would probably not drive such a funereal looking vehicle when visiting his customers to give them the benefit of his financial advice," said Ducky.

"No sure  _benefit_  is the right word," said Gibbs drily, "come on, we'll take a look round back."

"I must say that visiting a crematorium is not high on my wish list," said Ducky conversationally, "but, of course, I have had to visit a number during my career. I remember visiting one in …"

"Duck," hissed Gibbs, "working here. Let's concentrate!"

"Of course," said Ducky penitently, "my apologies. Where do you think …?”

His words were cut off by the sound of a gun being fired. Gibbs had his weapon out immediately,

"Stay behind me, Duck," he tossed his cell to Ducky, "call the Sheriff, tell him a gun has been fired."

Gibbs ran in the direction of the gun shot with Ducky trying gamely to keep up. Gibbs paused at the door of the furnace room and looked inside. He saw two bodies lying on the floor: a man wearing a black suit lay on top of McGee whose eyes were closed.

Instinctively following procedure, Gibbs cleared the room before approaching the two bodies. As he drew nearer he saw that the person lying on top of McGee was still breathing. He rolled him off McGee and saw a small knife embedded in his stomach. Gibbs reached forward and felt McGee's neck and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a strong pulse.

"McGee," he said, patting his face and trying to wake him up.

"Jethro," said Ducky, coming into the room, "what has happened? Is that blood on Timothy?"

"Yep," said Gibbs, "but I think it's from that guy, who I guess is Dwight."

Ducky stooped over Dwight and looked at the knife protruding from his body, "Good Lord," he said, "is that a belt buckle? I didn't realise they could be so lethal."

"It's a DiNozzo special," said Gibbs proudly, "rule 9. How is he?"

"It's a nasty wound," said Ducky, "I think we need an ambulance. How is Timothy?"

"Out cold," said Gibbs.

"What happened here?" asked Ducky as he moved to look at Tim.

"Don't know," said Gibbs, "looks as if Tim managed to stab Dwight. There must have been a fight."

"And where did that truck come from?"

"Hey, I got here the same time as you," protested Gibbs, "how should I know?"

"You're the investigator, Special Agent Gibbs," said Ducky agreeably, "I'm just a medical examiner. And fortunately there are no dead bodies requiring my attention."

"There a couple of _living_ bodies here, Dr Mallard," said Gibbs, "I'm sure they would like your  _attention."_

"Of course, Jethro," said Ducky. He hesitated a moment, "And, Jethro?"

"What?"

"Where is Anthony?"

NCISNCIS

Tony jerked awake again and looked round in confusion as his sluggish brain tried to work out what he was doing and where he was. A dim memory returned of a mattress that he had recently been lying on; he decided to go back to the mattress and lie down in something like comfort in the hope that his memory would return.

He wandered unsteadily back to the storage unit and walked in. Just as he was about to sink down on to the mattress he heard a voice behind him,

"What's going on here? Where's the other one? Why's the door open?"

Tony turned round slowly and was met by the unwelcome sight of Lucy standing with a furious expression on her face.

"I came to give you your next injection; I made a special journey and this is what I find."

The thought went slowly through Tony's mind that Lucy sounded genuinely upset at his lack of gratitude for being drugged by her. Before he could assemble any reply she went on,

"And there was a sound like a gunshot just now. Did you have anything to do with that?"

Tony tried to remember what had happened and then recalled that Dwight had decided to make his own plans. He knew this would annoy Lucy, "Dwight said your plan was rubbish."

"What?" said Lucy in an outraged voice.

"He came up with one of his own," said Tony looking longingly at the mattress.

"One of his own?" scoffed Lucy, "he can't plan anything. He's an idiot."

"Thought you loved him?" said Tony, "Loopy Lu, have you been  _using_  Dumbo Dwight? That's not nice, you know. Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Do what you want," said Lucy savagely, "I'll deal with you later."

She strode out of the room in the direction of the furnace room but she was back before Tony had managed to lower himself down to the floor.

"He's ruined everything," raged Lucy, "Ronald Teal and his oafish nephew are here and Dwight is lying on the floor."

"Not Ronald Teal, Donald Mallard" said Tony to himself.

"You know them?" demanded Lucy, "oh, I see. They're federal agents too. I didn't think the government employed such old people. No wonder the country's in the state it is."

"They found you," pointed out Tony.

"Not yet," said Lucy, "come on, we're leaving."

"What? Where?" said Tony.

" _I_  wouldn't bother looking for you," said Lucy brutally, "but these people seem to want you back. I'll just make it more difficult for them. It would be a shame to waste the opportunity."

Tony stood bemused and didn't move so Lucy grabbed his arm and steered him out of the building.

"Thought you were worried about leaving a mark," he complained as she walked him towards her car.

"Shut up," she said, "or it'll be a _hole_ in your arm, not a bruise."

When they reached her car, Lucy opened the trunk and ordered Tony to climb in. As he stood swaying and seemingly trying to process the absurdity of such a demand they heard the screeching of tyres as a car sped towards them.

NCISNCIS

"Where is Anthony?" asked Ducky. He and Jethro looked round but could see no sign of him. "You don't think he's in …?" and Ducky gestured towards the furnace door.

Gibbs swallowed, "not if he knows what's good for him."

Ducky decided not to point out the unreasonableness of this reply and instead applied himself to trying to wake Tim up. After a few moments McGee opened his eyes,

"W-w-w-hat?" he said, "What's going on?"

"Thought you could tell us, Tim," smiled Gibbs, "you all right?"

"Head hurts," said Tim, "there's a lot of that about at the moment. Boss, Cottonwood Vista is a bad place. Lucy Stanhope and Dwight are …"

"Swindling the old people out of their savings and pensions and stealing their medication," said Gibbs.

"Oh," said Tim, "yes, how did you know?"

"Because, according to Ducky, I'm an investigator, it’s what I do," said Gibbs. "What happened to you?"

"Lucy and Dwight caught us. They were going to kill us and sell us for spare parts."

"Good Lord," said Ducky, "I thought we had plumbed the depths of their depravity but it appears that we underestimated their wickedness. You know, for once, this doesn't remind me of anything."

Gibbs smiled at Ducky's bafflement but then continued, "You overpowered Dwight? Good job, Tim."

"Um, not quite, Boss. Dwight fell on my knife."

"Why did he fall on it?" asked Ducky.

"Tony pushed a truck thing at him. I think they use them for moving coffins around. Boss, where's Tony?"

"That's what we wanted to ask you, Tim," said Gibbs.

"Lucy has been drugging him. Said she'd pump him full of sedation until his body gave out. He was in a pretty bad way, Boss, I think he already had a concussion from where Emily hit him with her cane."

" _Emily?_ " said Ducky, "that sweet old lady we met at Cottonwood?" Tim nodded and Ducky gasped, "Good …"

"Lord?" finished Gibbs for him. "Come on, let's find DiNozzo." He helped Tim up and handcuffed Dwight to a pipe.

"We were held captive in that building there," pointed McGee as they walked out. They were approaching the storage unit when they heard a screech of tyres and they ran towards the sound.

NCISNCIS

Tony and Lucy watched as a bright pink Ford T-bird screeched to a halt a few feet from them. Two elderly men got out slowly,

"Is this another of your jokes?" said Cornelius Rush crossly.

"You said you wanted to explore the area," said Freddie Metcalfe.

"I didn't say I wanted to visit a funeral home," said Rush.

"It pays to be prepared," said Metcalfe.

"In your case," said Cornelius, "that's probably good advice. Because I've got a feeling you'll be back here soon. For real."

"Gentlemen," cooed Lucy, "it's so good to see you both getting out and about but would you mind moving your lovely car so that I can get mine out?"

"You're Miss Stanhope, aren't you?" said Cornelius, "the administrator at Cottonwood?"

"That's right," said Lucy, "and I really do need to be getting back there. So, if you don't mind?"

"I'm glad I've seen you," said Cornelius, "I want to complain about the internet connection in my apartment. In the brochure, it is stated that it will be a high speed connection but, I have to say, it is very far from that."

"I'll look into that as soon as I get back to Cottonwood," said Lucy sweetly, "so if you could just move your car?"

"And I'd like to complain about breakfast," said Metcalfe, "you would think that there would be a better class of orange juice in California."

"I promise I will … ugh," squawked Lucy as she felt an arm go round her throat.

"Stay very still," said Tony in a menacing voice, "I've got a sharp knife in my hand and, lady, you are not my favourite person. I wouldn't really mind if my hand slipped."

Gibbs and McGee ran up shortly afterwards and took over just as Tony's eyes were beginning to droop shut.

"It's all right, Tony," said Gibbs, "I've got this."

"Thanks, Boss," said Tony, "I thought Spring Break was exciting here but it's got nothing on retirement."

EPILOGUE

"Thanks, Boss," said Tony, "for bringing me to Venice Beach. Although I didn't really mean the fishing pier."

"You're welcome, DiNozzo," said Gibbs looking contentedly at his fishing pole.

"I don't think I want to retire here," said Tony.

"Not yet, anyway," said Gibbs.

"Never," said Tony firmly, "ever."

"P'raps not," said Gibbs as he thought back over the last couple of days. Tim and Tony had been taken to hospital where they were both treated for mild concussion. Tony had slept for twenty four hours straight and then woken up with so much energy that Gibbs had agreed to take him on a mini road trip to take him out of everyone else's way.

Lucy and Dwight were in prison and would be charged with a growing number of offences. Autopsies were being performed on the residents of Cottonwood who had died and been stored at the funeral home. It appeared that they had all died from natural causes but Ducky said it was possible that their deaths had been hastened by the withholding of medication.

The residents had all been shocked by the news about Dwight and Lucy and it would take a long time to disentangle the finances of those who had been advised by Dwight. Emily had been especially distraught and was horrified by her attack on Tony: that had been another reason for Gibbs to bring Tony away, she couldn't stop apologising to Tony and her constant hugs and embraces had begun to irritate him.

"What'll happen to Cottonwood?" asked Tony as they sat looking out to sea.

"The residents want to stay on," said Gibbs.

"Really?"

"Sure. Like you said, it's a nice place. With more people coming to live there, it'll do better. And the old folks like the idea of working there, it's a good idea. There's talk of them forming some sort of co-operative so they can run it themselves."

"Sounds a good idea," said Tony.

"I think Rush will help with that," said Gibbs, "and Freddie Metcalfe."

"Who'd have thought that those two would be best buds," said Tony.

"You owe'em," pointed out Gibbs.

"Yep, if they hadn't turned up when they did, I'd have been stuffed in the trunk of the lovely Lucy's car and shipped off somewhere."

"We'd have found you, Tony," said Gibbs.

"I know, Boss, but I'm glad you didn't have to. Why did they turn up anyway?"

"They wanted to know what was going on, they felt left out when Duck and I went. And I think they both wanted to go out in the T-bird, following us was just an excuse. Then when they saw Lucy trying to persuade you into the trunk they decided to take action."

"Well, I'm glad they did," said Tony, "another five minutes and I'd have been sound asleep. Hey, McGoo, where you been?"

"Went for a walk along the beach," said Tim nonchalantly as he sat down next to Tony. "It's beautiful."

"Did there happen to be lots of bikinis on show?" asked Tony.

"Might have been," said Tim loftily, "oh, all right, yes, loads. I … er gave some advice on proper application of sun cream."

"Hands on?" asked Tony.

"In some cases," said Tim.

"Proud of you, McTony, proud of you."

"Come on you two," said Gibbs.

"Yeah, I know, time to go, Boss," said Tony as he got up reluctantly, "the President's assignment is over."

"Hell, no," said Gibbs, "I thought we'd head down to Long Beach. I want a ride on one of those gondola things. Might build one of them next."

"On your six, Boss," said Tim and Tony happily.

 


End file.
